Prescription for Life by MissDomaYuset
by May Sparrow
Summary: All Conrad Achenleck wanted was a normal school year. What he got was an asshole of an Aussie that wouldn't let him alone, and a massive amount of pills. Young!Conrad Young!Worth AU REUPLOADED
1. The Notebook

_MaySparrow here. I'm Doma Yuset's roleplaying partner for a lot of things, and as her account will not let her in to upload the new chapters of PFL, she has given me permission to upload them onto my account until she gets a new one (hopefully soon). Please note that until all chapters with Doma's commentary on them end, I will be speaking in italics for you to differentiate who wrote what._

_Glad to be back guys! (And god, Doma no I am not that amazing my Luce is so OOC WHAT EVEN)_

**ITS TIME FOR SUPER SPECIAL RP TIME!**

_**Unceunceunce…**_

**Okay enough of that. This entire story was actually a RP between myself and a very talented person that goes by the name May Sparrow. It was an interesting experience for the both of us as I never RP'ed as Conrad before and she as Worth.**

**I think we did pretty awesome. So awesome in fact we wanted to share the epicenes with the rest of the HiNaBN fan community. This story takes place in a AU, where Connie and Worthy are going to the same high school. I hope you all will enjoy reading this story as much as we did writing it.**

**DISCLAIMER: All original characters belong to Tessa Stone. Who I assume was turned into a bat, which explains the immense lack of updates.**

It was late in the afternoon, and school had just let out. Conrad, a young freshman in high school, had the misfortune of missing his bus home. Now this wasn't entirely horrible, he knew the way home, he did. But it was the matter of not being able to go home at the specific time he was _supposed_ to go home. He was going to be late, and being late with anything never sat well with his mother.

He knew it'd just make the situation worse, but he slowed his pace a bit. Another ten minutes walking means ten less minutes he'll have to face _her. _Ten less minutes of having to listen to how if keeps up his _irresponsible_ behavior, he'll end up like his father… He never even met the man for himself, but apparently he was horrible. Swallowing, Conrad slowed his pace even more.

He wished this walk could last forever.

The boy paused for a moment, adjusting his glasses. This was no good, he needed to stop stressing. He needed a distraction. He took the sketch book out from under his arm and opened up to a half drawn picture of a horse. Maybe if he drew while he walked, he'd relax and forget about his destination. Maybe it'd make the trip home seem longer. "I-I'll do the mane… Can't mess up on manes while walking…" He muttered to himself while he made wispy lines.

Conrad was distracted, so distracted to the point he didn't notice another boy who was standing on the other side of the street. Luce Worth, a senior, had left school _ages_ ago. And honestly, the teachers were secretly happy he left too. He leaned up against a stop sign, chewing on the end of a cigarette. He spotted Conrad and took note of his round glasses and his nose buried in a notepad. A screaming target for Luce, who hadn't tormented a child since… a few hours ago.

Luce recognized the kid too, had seen him around campus… for a moment, he wondered what his name was. Colby? Corbin?

He lit up another smoke and J-walked across the street. He approached Conrad nonchalantly, not trying to attract attention at first, but ran the last few feet and snatched the sketch book from the boy's hands. Conrad jumped in surprise, and stared wildly at the boy who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Wha's dis? C'n I see?" Worth asked, but obviously didn't need Conrad's _permission_ as he'd already begun to flip through the pages. He expected there to be a hate list or pictures of naked girls, but all he got was a book full of pansy drawings. "…Das so gay." He snorted at the horse, poking Conrad in the forehead. "What are ya, a girl?"

"I-I-I…!" Conrad stuttered for a moment, still trying to process what the _hell_ was happening now. He managed to find his voice. "Give it back! And it's…_it's n-not…_" trailing off, Conrad shrank back slightly. This boy was bigger than he was. He was _scary_ looking.

"Nah, I wanna see~" Luce held up the book so Conrad couldn't snatch it back, still looking through the pages with an interested expression.

Conrad was tempted to just turn on his heel and make a run for it, and just let him have the damned book. What if this kid was a dangerous as he looked?

But…

He worked hard on those drawings. He didn't want to lose his sketch book to some… some _creep!_ And besides, his mother would never buy him _another_ sketch book. "Please?" He asked with a pleading expression. "J-Just give it back…?"

Luce didn't seem to listen, holding up his cigarette with his free hand. He was seemed tempted to dab it onto one of the drawings. Conrad spotted this and froze up in terror- letting out a _huge_ sigh of relief as the older teen seemed to have changed his mind. Luce would never admit it, but… the drawings as pansy as they were, were actually _not bad_. He looked down at Conrad though and gave him an irritated stare- annoyed at boys' lack of back bone. He wanted to punch that pleading expression and tell him to quit acting like such a _girl._

"Da hell is this shit? Di'n't mum eva tell ya drawing's fer girs?" He rolled his eyes. "An' '_orses!_ Least draw w'men or s'meth'ng." And much to Conrad's displeasure, he turned to a blank page and snatched the pencil that had still remained in the boy's hand.

"N-No! But boys draw too…" he choked out. When the pencil was snatched, he felt anger bubbling up and suddenly snapped. "Don't draw in there! It's _mines!_"

But as quickly as the anger came, it was pulled back. No, no, no, he couldn't yell at this boy! He could hit him, he could _kill_ him! Paranoia set in as he became convinced that if he made the wrong move, that lit cigarette would be put out into his _eyeball._ He reached weakly for the book and added pitifully, "_…Please?"_

Worth snorted at the boy's getting defensive, "Breath ya pussy," he muttered- then took note of his sudden backing down. "F'ck, kid. Ya angry, ya let it out." He chewed on his cigarette thoughtfully as he scribbled naked women onto the lose paper- rather forcefully so there would be deep indentions of the perverted lines. He didn't seem to hear Conrad whining painfully in the back ground as he finished up. "…T'ere. A pr'per boy's art book."

The cigarette by now had gone out. He rifled though his pocket for another, but he was all out. "Dammit." He'd have to buy more. He shoved the book and pen back into the boy's arms and ruffled his hair roughly with his grimy and dirty hands. "I gotta git kid. Cigs ain't gonna buy 'emselves." He began walking away, then paused. He turned his head back and added before disappearing around the corner, "And don't be such a fag nex't time. I see ya."

Because there _would_ be a next time.

Conrad didn't seem to hear him, eyes were transfixed onto the vulgar drawings. The proportions were a bit off, but all the right details were there. Conrad seemed horrified, but he didn't know how to look away.

'_So that's what a naked girl looks like…'_

He shook his head and threw the book to the ground, hyperventilating. "M-Mom!" What if she saw this in his book? She'd think he was a disgusting pervert, a deviant! That would mean something _else_ that was wrong with him. That would mean _more_ doctors, _more_ pills. "Oh god! Oh god!" He fell to his knees and ripped the page out, throwing it into a random direction. He looked back to the book- it was now on the page with the horse he was just drawing on minutes ago.

The indentions of the naked women were on that, plain as day. "H-He pressed so hard!" Conrad ripped that paper out, only to see the indentations on the next page. And the next. And the _next._ He was forced to rip out each one, because _she_ would see. She always checked, _always_ and he couldn't, _wouldn't_ take the risk.

Eventually, he became so frustrated that he threw the book into a muddy puddle in the middle of the street and ran home crying.


	2. Bus Ride

_Yes, second chapter going up, and this-I just love Conrad so much man. _

**Hurray! Second Chapter!**

**Enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment.**

**I own none of the original! **

Conrad made it a point to not to miss the bus anymore. Not just because of his mother panicking at his lateness the other day but because of _him. _He curls up against the vibrating glass and tin wall of the bus, feeling somewhat fortunate that he had a window seat all to himself. He still moped about the loss of his sketch book, but he told himself a folder filled with clean computer paper worked just as well. That and he wouldn't be able to draw on the bus. The bus constantly shook and stopped, and made it impossible to draw anything well.

He sighed slightly as predictably, the bus jolted harshly for another stop. He stared out the window, letting his mind wander, not even noticing a certain teenager being let on. Said teen dropped the coins in the payment slot and walked down the aisle and spotted Conrad.

And just like that, Conrad's day was ruined again, because this teenager was the same as a few days before. The same teen that violated his privacy, insulted his work and ruined his sketch book. Luce recognized Conrad and smirked widely. The only difference in his appearance from last time was the dingy fur lined jacket he found in the charity bin. He saunters down the aisle, sprawling into the open seat, legs spread madly, taking up much of the space.

Conrad felt himself being pushed up even more up against the wall and for a split second assumed it was just a very _fat_ man sitting next to him. Until he turned his head and saw the teens face.

He squeaked.

"Ey Connie~" Luce grinned darkly. He was able to find- and _remember_ the kids real name. Isn't that sweet? "'Member me?"

"Oh _GOD!_" Horrified, he slammed himself up against the wall of the bus, trying to get as far as away as he could from Worth. Away from him and what looked like a flea infested coat with road kill stitched on it. "W-Why are you sitting next to me? Leave me alone!" His tone was desperate and had a embarrassingly whinny ring to it.

Worths' smirk widened. "Ah, so ya DO rem'ber me. 'M touched." He noted the boy's retreating. "Ey, ey, s'public property. I kin sit wher'ver I wants." Rolling his eyes, he sat up correctly, giving Conrad a bit of breathing room as he stretched. "Di'nt mummy ever teach ya s'not attractive ta whine?" he asked as he ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. (Literally _dirty_ blonde hair mind you)

Biting the insides of his cheek, Conrad stopped his squirming when he finally got a bit of his personal space back. "I k-know but... " This wasn't right. He shouldn't be talking to this guy. He found himself shaking slightly. "M-My mom told me not to talk to people…ah- I mean, people _like you_, people like you."

Worth was a bit surprised the kid took the rhetorical question seriously. He frowned at the shaking. "Like me eh? Lemmie tell ya kid, ya ain't gonna meet an'one _like me._" He had a gut feeling that the kid was avoiding something, but shrugged it off. He leaned back and stretched an arm around the kid. "Eesh, quit yer blubbering. S'mbaressing fer a kid like you."

The boy protested weakly at first, defensively stating that he was _not_ in fact blubbering. But when he felt that arm stretch around his shoulder, he started to have a panic attack, franticly slapping the arm away like it was a snake. "Don't touch me! _Don't touch me!_"

Blinking, Worth took back his arm, surprised at the hysterical reaction. "Aw'ight, aw'ight, jeezus… Essh, ya sound like my mum, go up a coule octaves why don'cha?" He quirked an eyebrow at the kid. "Where's the notepad kiddie?"

"I-I left it at home…" He opted for a lie, wanting this conversation to end as quickly as possible. But that was impossible because this bus seemed to refuse to get to his destination as quickly as he would have liked. Worth could tell the kid was lying however but even if he wanted to call him out on it, the boy changed the subject. "What is your name anyways?"

It'd be nice to know the name of his _stalker_.

Luce wondered about just giving Lamont's name, but then decided against it. It was just a kid- what would he do with it anyways? "S'Worth. Luce Worth." He smirked. "And don'cha ferget it."

"I don't think I'd be _able_ to…" Calmed down, Conrad seemed to be somewhat pouting about his unfortunate situation. "Why are you even bothering me?" He tried so hard being invisible, but he attracted the attention of one of the most violent boys on campus. How did that add up?

Luce stared at the boy like he was an idiot. "M'not. Yer jest in the wrong place 't the wrong time." He rolled his eyes. "Grow a backbone, th'n t'won't bother ya 's much." He poked the boy in the chest. "Ya make it too easy, kid."

Conrad flinched at the poke. "I-I have a backbone!" he protested weakly. "It's not my fault y-you're doing this!" He was the victim here- you couldn't just go and blame the victim!

Luce continued poking. "Prove it." He flicked the boy's glasses. "'S in mah nature. T'e more ya complain, t'e more I enjoy it. Got it?" Smirking, he ruffled the kid's hair. "Yer such a spazz."

The boy flinched with each touch, and it was starting to look quite pathetic. "I-I-stopitjeasus! Am I supposed to just take it?" he whined.

Why couldn't this bus go faster?

Luce snickered. "Little dumbass." He released with a smirk; hand falling to his lap. "Ya can fight back, but I t'ink yer too muchuva pansy ta try." He was enjoying himself. "Quit yer whining. S'not flattering."

This confused Conrad. "Y-You want me to fight back?" he asked baffled. "...why?"

Luce shrugged. " S' funny. " He was distracted for a moment by something out the window. "I'v been called a mas'chist bafore. M'ght've s'mth'ng ta do w'th it." A pause. "I unno. Ya also stop actin like a baby at one po'nt. S' an option. T'ink 's called fight er flight."

"You're insane! I'm not a baby, I just want to be left alone. I shouldn't have to even make that choice." He hugged his bag in front of him as he saw the bus was about to _finally_ pull into his stop. "T-That's my stop! _Please_ just leave me alone!"He squeezed past Luce, and finally managed to escape off the bus, leaving behind Luce and his twisted little smirk.


	3. Blood

_annnnd Chapter 3 is up. Pardon it being submitted a bit...lateish, kind of. I couldn't get to a computer after when I put up the first two yesterday. [/shrug] What're ya gonna do._

_ANYWAY. As of now, the raw version of PFL is finished, but the edited versions are not. I want to say we have a good 3-4 chapters after the most recent one-that is, 10. But hey, sequels are being written man, and-_

_River Song: Spoilers~_

_Oh shut up and get to your own TV show._

**Here we go guys.**

**PLOT TIME. Now things get kinda serious, so put on your seatbelts.**

**Again this is an RP between myself and May Sparrow.**

**This time, the posts were translated into a proper chapter by her as were several other chapters. Which is kinda incredible. Please do check out her work.**

**None of the original belongs to us!**

Tuesday lunch bell found Conrad on his way to the office. Whereas other teens his age were enjoying their lunches or chatting with their dear friends, Conrad would usually head to the library and bury himself into a quiet corner to read, but today he had to do a couple things before he could be free to dive into his current novel.

Slipping into the office, Conrad greeted the nurse with a polite (if not dull and robotic) nod to her warm "oh hello you again".

"It's Tuesday," he began. "I just get the blue and round ones today, right?" She nodded at him, then turned back to shuffle through the cupboard to find his medication. Meanwhile, Conrad seated himself in one of the two seats beside the door, dangling his feet lightly, knocking them back and forth in the slightest bored fashion.

…

The kid had been asking for it, really he had. All Luce had done was given him a quick punch to the jaw for calling his sister a whore. After all, Luce took a lot of shit from kids, but no one was allowed to mutter a word about his flesh and blood. If there was a code Luce stuck by, it was this:

1. Never kick a man when he's down. Kicking, punching, biting, any of that shit was messed up and indecent, and Luce did have at least one moral bone in his body.

2. Never hurt a person that's clearly incapable of fighting back. This went for druggies and little kids, and sometimes girls, even though a few had proved quite capable of taking care of themselves.

3. Never, _ever_ insult a person's family member when you know the person could beat the living shit out of you.

That last rule had been broken today, and a fight had broken out quite too easily. It had ended just as quickly, and as it figured, Luce was sent to the office all by himself. It wasn't that he minded, really, because he was there all the time; he just would have preferred that asshole to have joined him so he could hit him a couple more times before they arrived.

At this point, Luce's nose was bleeding something awful, and he was covered with bruises and scratches from his opponent (a little dickhead that went by the name Lamont Toucey). In a sort of fashion much like that of a jailer getting a final meal before the death sentence, Luce was allowed to the nurse's office to clean up before being sent into the principal's office. He mumbled something incoherent to the secretary before walking into the nurse's room rudely, not bothering to knock. He plopped into the seat closest to the door, which was vacant, before realizing that there was someone else beside him. A _certain_ someone, actually.

Luce couldn't help a smirk from breaking across his face, partially hidden behind the hand that was plugging his bloody nose. "Allo, kiddie," he muttered cheerfully, his voice nasally. "Long time no see. Ya 'ere fer a tampon er s'meth'ng?"

Conrad jumped a little from the older boy's presence, almost immediately muttering, "Oh _god _not you!" before looking up to the nurse in a pleading expression that screamed for her to give him the pills so he could go, yet unfortunately for him, she had noted the senior as the higher priority, and she, of _course_, was the only one on staff.

"Oh you little rascal- _another fight?_ Hang on Conrad, I need to stop this bleeding!"

"No, wai-!" Too late. She had already left the tray of prescription bottles on the counter to find the first aid kit. Conrad took a deep breath, praying for nothing bad to happen. Nothing _could_ happen, right? They were in the office; the older kid couldn't do anything here! ...Right?

He felt himself coil up in retaliation to the rude comment. "I'm just here for my medication... You-" he paused. It was pretty obvious why he was here, he nose was bleeding. Why was he going to ask? "I mean... _ho-"_ also pretty obvious. It was Luce, it was pretty clear he was the sort of boy to get into fights on a daily basis. In that moment, Conrad felt like an utter idiot. He stopped talking.

Luce snorted, accidentally swallowing some blood in the process, eliciting a grimace. "Meds, 'uh?" His smirk never faded. "Now, what wouldja need meds fer?" Quickly noting the pill box so carelessly left behind, he studied its contents, nitpick eyes easily recognizing the tablets from his mother's pill bottles. "The Lexies and Paxy?" He rolled his eyes; these were antidepressants, for a person with serious metal instability.

But hang on. These had some poor side effects: lack of sleep, withdrawal, lots of bad shit. Why the hell would an underage kid be taking these pills?

Worth grimaced again, leaning forward to keep the blood from trailing down his trachea. "You- Yer one'a those damn cutters, ain'cha? Fuck, das so stupid." His grimace didn't fade; as far as he was concerned, cutters were usually just asking for attention. Luce cut, on occasion, but it was only for the feel (and he _liked_ it). "Sum depressed little shit t'at can't take care o' 'is own 'ide? Shit." His grimace deepened; the damned depressed kids were so caught up with their own problems, they could never see the world around them. It was irritating as hell.

At the accusation, Conrad's head snapped up, almost immediately shaking. "W-What? No! I don't cut- Jesus, why would you _think_ that?" To say he was caught off guard was a slight understatement, but he didn't realize what Worth had seen; hell, he didn't even remember what each pill was even for!

At that moment the nurse returned, and he looked up hopefully, in vain.

"Luce, settle down and use this," she said sternly, handing the senior some medical tissue. "I'll be back with some water- Behave! The both of you!" With that, she left the room once more, and Conrad's face fell.

The elder boy just rolled his eyes, tissue dangling in one hand. "Da fuck am I s'posed ta do with dis thing, damn lady don't know how ta do her job," he muttered dully- nevertheless, he brought the tissue to his nose and blew loudly, squeezing the excess away. He blinked down at the bloody mess, making a face. "Errg."

Said boy returned his attention to his companion, expression deepening. "Why? Cuz dat shit's fer kids dat're messed up in da 'ead." To emphasize his point, he poked himself lightly in the temple. "What da damn docters don't tell ya is dat shit could act'lly mek it worse."

He blew again, snorting and wiping his nose. "Specially fer kid's yer age. Wut're ya, ten er s'meth'ng?" Luce poked the smaller teen in the chest, lightly but invasively. "S'Just gunna make shit worse fer ya."

Conrad scooted away slightly from the finger. "_Don't_ touch me!" He was becoming angry now, from all the insults and invasiveness. "And I'm not messed up! My mom just makes me take these pills- not that this is any of your business!" His hackles lowered for a moment, and he directed the rest of his reply to what he thought he knew: "'Sides, you're lying. Doctors don't give you stuff to hurt you- you're _supposed_ to trust them. Y-You're just trying to scare me. _Again._" To prove his disbelief, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest- but it came off as hugging himself instead. "So… shut up."

His last rebuttal didn't come off as very strong to the other teen, however, and Luce groaned. Why did it figure that the one time he was actually being brutally honest, no one would listen to him? "Yer mum, eh?" The senior rolled his eyes. "Parents dunno shit."

His expression turned to a glare at the kid. "I ain't _gonna_ shuddup. I know my shit, and probly know more'en yer mum, too. Wouldn't be stupid enough ta' let mah kid tek all three damn antiwhatsits." He held up three fingers, then let his hand fall again to his lap. "Wouldn't be stupid enough ta 'ave a kid in da first place. Specially one with genes like yers." The hand rose again, to poke Conrad in the arms, despite the boy's defensive expression.

"I betcha she got fucked and didn even wantcha. Whetever problem's she got, she thinks you 'ave em. S'called..." Luce put his finger to his chin in an expression of thought. "… 'ctually, can't m'mber wet it's called." He removed his finger from his chin to wave it in the air, like some sort of wiseass proving a point. "Is real though." Later, Luce would recall the word he was searching for as projecting, but for now he didn't bother trying.

So far, Conrad had been able to withstand the rude comments; but those, those last ones, those were on a totally different level. It was clear that at this point, he really was hugging himself. "I-It's not my fault..." his voice shook, "Why are you..."

His expression was that of devastation, like a person that's been in denial and refuses to come out. "Why are you _doing_ _this!_" His voice spiked dangerously high. "My mom- you can't say things like that! She's a good person!" He swallowed.

Luce pulled the tissue away from his nose to check the bleeding; to his chagrin, it had definitely improved. His annoyance only increased furthermore as the younger boy continued to deny his comments. "Lookit ya. You'da been better off if she hadn' kept ya. Lotta less moping an' crying an pills. I know what'm talkin' 'bout, Connie."

"She wanted me. She did! She kept me didn't she? That proves it doesn't? You wouldn't know!" Conrad's voice was definitely rising in fury. "I **hate** you! I bet everyone does! So you wouldn't know!" His eyes watered furiously, but his expression had twisted into anger and distress.

At the raised voice, he looked up, catching sight of the unshed tears, and frowned.

"_Hate me?"_ He snorted. "Course they hate me, 'm the only one th'can see how stupid all this shit is." The scraggly teen's eyes suddenly became dangerously narrow. "I know 'zactly what I'm talkin' about. And you know it too."

At this point, it was obviously clear he was glaring at the boy, more than angered by his denial, by his childish fury. "There ain't a damn thing you kin do ta stop me. 'M the only one being fuckin' honest in this damn world. 'N you can tell. Why else wouldja be flippin' out so much?"

He reached out then, grabbed Conrad by his shoulders, trying to tell him to _let go_, to stop being a kid and to listen to him. "Ain't nobody in this world you kin trust, understand? _Nobody._" He shook him lightly, as though trying to shake him from his mindset. "Grow up an' get it through yer head."

Conrad's stamina and emotions were spiraling madly at the older boy's words. "Shut up shut up _shu-_" his shaking was broken off as physical contact was reestablished, and he stared blankly at Worth, insides churning and snapping.

Something, some final boundary, that had been thin and worn already, snapped and broke inside Conrad's mind.

"I said, _**DON'T TOUCH ME!**_" Head reared back, slammed forward into Worth's face, forehead against the boy's already fragile nose. Luce cursed loudly as his nose was crushed further, brain nearly screaming from the contact. He released Conrad and fell back into his seat, gripping his nose, and Conrad took the opportunity to pull farther away and scramble to his feet, hyperventilating.

Luce's mind was in shambles. His mind was screaming _holy fuck holy shit that hurts_. His nose felt utterly crushed at this point, and Luce resisted a yelp of pain as he tried to hold it in its proper place. He blinked at Conrad somewhat blurry-eyed, as the boy began to scream at him:

"I _SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!_ I don't trust you, _I'll __**never**_ trust you! Leave me alone! **LEAVE ME ALONE!**" At this point, it was clear that Conrad had crossed a certain boundary, and was officially having what some may call an episode.

"…Well, fuck." The senior said nothing more until the kid had calmed some, meanwhile blinking and staring cross-eyed at the broken thing his fingers. "Did… Did ya just hit me?"

To say he was surprised was a bit of an understatement; he had never expected this kid, this _pansy_ to really fight him, to fight back and defend himself. At this point in time the tissue had returned to his nose, and was soaked quite thoroughly to the point of dripping.

"You just hit me… Damn."

Conrad's hand were curled into small fists as his psyche tried to reign itself in; his emotions were having none of it. "Yes I hit you! I'd hi-"

Realization hit him like an iron fist, and the frightened expression returned to his face as quickly as it had fled. "Oh god _-_ _I hit yo-_"

To his utter misfortune, the nurse finally reentered the room, hand wrapped around a cup of water he could only assume was meant for his pills.

"Sorry, dear, they were out of paper cups so I ha- oh dear." She took in the scene awfully slowly, piecing together what had happened.

"Conrad, _go_ to the Principals office_ NOW._ Wait there until I can get a hold of him _and_ your mother."

"W-Wait! You ca- you don't under-"

"Now!" That set aside hastily, she returned her focus to Worth, forcing him to lean back. "...Yup, broken," she muttered to herself, eliciting a grimace from Luce (_gee, ya think?_) "You'll need to go to the hospital." That said, she tried to carefully stop the bleeding as a secretary escorted a clearly broken Conrad out of the room.

Luce waved her away in a dismissive manner, a grin breaking open on his bloody face. "Old up, lady. Bigger things a' work 'ere." He was actually beginning to enjoy the pain, being the masochist that he was, and he limped out of the room quickly, trying to catch the other teen.

"Old up, 'old up." He finally managed to get the secretary to stop, only a few feet away from the principal's room.

Conrad was not happy; he felt as though he was walking to his doom, and in one way, he kid of was. But they were suddenly stopped, and he turned; to his surprise, Worth had been the distraction. He was covered in blood, and the freshman resisted a grimace.

As he leaned down to look Conrad in the eye, an almost manic grin spread across his face.

"Goo' job, kid."

"Good job?" He… he just broke his nose- how could Luce be _happy_ about that? "I do-"

A fist connected with his stomach, and Worth was rewarded with a nice squelching sound.

"_Unnngh!_" The underclassman fell to his knees, wheezing.

"Don' do it again," he heard faintly. The words were followed by laughter as Luce waved off the angry secretary, who furiously redirected her attention to the small pained boy, leading him into the principal's room and onto a couch to recover.

Luce Worth laughed once more and returned cheerfully to the frowning nurse. "Where were we?"


	4. Proud

_Annnd Luce officially starts becoming OOC. I am sorry guys why do you all put up with me. 8|_

_Did I ever mention how much I love Doma Yuset? Seriously, guys, she is my sister and her Kid!Rad is adorable._

**HAHA THIS IS THE REAL CHAPTER THREE.**

**SOME OF YOU ACIDENTALLY READ THE FUUUUUTURE.**

**And I took some of this drug-Hazy-ness from my own past when I used to take ADHD medication. Total zombifacation. Only I dramatized it a bit more here.**

Conrad had been a model student that was aggravated for the first time, and reacted violently for the _first time. _Because of this, he only got a two day suspension as a warning- rather gracious of the principal, who was known to be quick with punishing students with hard labor or volunteer work. Mother, however, wasn't pleased. Conrad got to enjoy a full 48 hours of her expressing that disappointment.

During that time, she did his laundry, and found some of the clothes smelling like _smoke._ This caused her to yell at the boy some more, refusing to listen to his excuses that would contain a certain blonde Aussie who didn't seem to know the meaning of _personal space. _She even smacked him across the face for becoming a 'liar', a liar just like _him._

On the second day of hell, he was dragged to the doctor and was immediately prescribed some anger medication. He didn't think much of it as he took the first pill in the morning, or the next few mornings. But eventually as he returned to school he noticed for himself, noticed the sudden _slowness_ and the change of usual quirks. His eyes gained a hazed look.

It was lunch again, and after taking his pills of the day, the teen wandered into library and pulled out his folder of paper and drawings.

"..."

Conrad stared blankly at the sheet- hand hovering over the paper.

"..."

Nothing. _Nothing._ Numbly, the freshman pushed the paper aside and took out a book, trying to read it.

"..."

He found himself re-reading the same page over and over again because it just _wasn't sinking in._ He kept trying -but didn't seem to care either way.

He was too tired to care.

~x~

After Luce's return from the hospital, he was finally punished for injuring several kids. His punishment? Library assistant. ("Do'I get a fuckin' nametag ta go wit' it?") Every day at lunch and after school he'd have to help put books away and catalog shit, but they were pretty far in the year with cataloging and no one came to the library anyway, so he basically did nothing the whole time. Still, it was an improvement to the students, as he was confined there and therefore not really capable of injuring anybody. With nothing to do, Luce had been studying the biology books; other than all the nude pics he would get to look at (little pervert that he was) they were actually pretty neat. He started thinking about medical careers a bit more, but today, as he read, he noted someone a couple tables away.

It was _Connie._

He looked exhausted, sick even. Luce closed his book, making sure to mark the page, and rose from his table. Taking a spot next to Conrad, he reopened the book to his page, continuing to read. "Not lookin' too good, kiddie." He raised an eyebrow, still reading. "New meds er someth'ng?"

Conrad blinked a bit slowly and looked up at the elder teen. "..." He nodded slightly. Who was he again?... Ah! Luce Worth. He knew him. He _knew _him. He wasn't supposed to _like_ him. But he couldn't find the hatred. Couldn't summon up any real emotion really.

"I can't pronounce the name... but yes." He didn't remember why he didn't like talking about his medications, and found himself just babbling slightly "I can't pronounce most of the names though." That said, he turned back to the book and re-read the page for the third time.

"...Eighteen..." the younger student muttered to himself mostly. He remembered how many different bottles there were currently that he had to take from. Some were daily, others bi-weekly, weekly, and one was even monthly. "This makes eighteen..."

Luce was a bit surprised he actually responded, that he didn't jump away or anything. The kid was babbling, and he allowed him to; _Jesus, he looks ill._ To his discomfort, Luce was actually a little freaked about this, and the slightest twisting in his gut that was always there tightened a little more at the mention _'eighteen'._

"Holy fuck kid." The senior looked up from his book to study Conrad. His reactions were slow at best; his eyes, normally rather bright and panicked, were glazed; fuck, he looks majorly drugged. He straightened from his slouched position and narrowed his eyes at Conrad. "'Ey, wake up."

He closed his book and gently but firmly wrapped his fingers around the kid's wrist. "Ya got any sense, ya'll stop takin' the meds. Yer liver should be failin' at this point if'ya don't stop!" His voice was lowered, but sharp, hopefully sharp enough to cut through the haze in his companion's mind. "Yer makin' yerself sick. Get it?"

Conrad didn't make eye contact, but his eyes were drawn to his wrist, currently grabbed but the elder boy. He didn't react. "My liver?"

He blinked, then closed his own book and thought for a moment. "That's alright I think... My insurance covers transplants."

This subject used to scare him to death, but now... It didn't seem a big deal. Might as well be talking about the weather even. "Besides... Can't stop. Don't have a choice. I'll make people mad." His tone the entire time was flat and lacking of emotion. Like he was reading a word problem out loud. What else was there to say? He couldn't stop taking the pills. That was like asking him to stop eating or to stop washing his hands

"Yer insur- "For a moment, Luce just stared. "Who gives a fuck what people think?" Eyes, already narrow, became like slits; his voice rose and caught a couple stares, and his grip on Conrad's wrist tightened. "Don' have a _choice?_ Fuck tha-"

"How's your nose?"

"Mah no-"

Luce blinked in surprise; the kid would never let go of a topic that easily, he was way too uptight for that. He stared for a moment before letting go of his wrist and rubbing the bridge of his nose darkly, looking away. "S'fine." He was starting to seriously worry that if Connie was acting like _this,_ something was really up now. "S'perman'ntly crooked, bet s'fine." Luce was slightly angry now; how the hell could Conrad do this to himself? How did he allow it?

"'Ow's mum?" The question was drenched in sarcasm; at this point he hated the woman.

"Fine. She's angry that I picked a fight at school, but that's all." Conrad rubbed at his wrist for a moment. "She says this is what happens when I talk to people..."

He paused, wondering why he was still talking to Luce if he wasn't supposed to. It was difficult to think. He lost track of what he was thinking and stared off at some distant thing, then snapped back for a moment."...You're the first person that's talked to me more than once." He paused again. "You should stop though."

Luce blinked in irritation. "Well if ya don't talk ta someone yer gonna end up in real shit." Then the words clicked, and his head snapped back to look at his companion. It would be rather a bit sad that he was the only one.

"Why should I stop? Got nothin' better ta do. Plus, ya respond." God, he looked so _tired._ Luce was actually tense about the whole thing; the kid was beating himself half to death! Luce needed to keep an eye on him before he did something stupid.

The senior leaned back on his chair "Ya finally got s'me comp'ny. Ya really wanna lose it?"

"I thought you hated me? I broke your nose." Conrad took the scattered blank pages of paper and piled them back into the folder- Bell rings in fifteen minutes. He'd given up on drawing _anything._

Luce smirked gently, almost fondly. "Don' hate ya. Ya fought back. I was proud." He looked up as the other boy piled his papers away. "Was a nice change, ya doin' s'mth'ng 'bout things tha' madeja angry. Better than ya bein' a priss." He kept smirking, the trademark expression looking far more familiar. "Mas'chis', 'member?"

Conrad didn't seem to hear him, and continued speaking. "And it doesn't matter what I want. I don't know what I want."

Frowning, Luce stared at Conrad, tempted to just _force_ him to look at him. "Doesn't matter?" He shook his head lightly "'Course it matters. Just gotta make up yer mind..." he trailed off; was Connie even listening?

The boy wasn't reacting a bit to what he was saying. If he did hear, it wasn't sinking in and sparking anything. He shoved his things back into his bag. As he zipped up the bag to get up, something must have clicked-

"...proud?"

Proud, he said he was proud of him.

That… The idea of _someone_ being _proud_- it was a joke. He was making fun of him.

But…

"... You're confusing me. Please, just leave me alone." Swinging bag over his shoulder, he left the table.

Luce Worth stared after him, something akin to a perplexed and worried frown on his face. He couldn't leave him alone, not with all this shit going on.

This couldn't end well, even on this kid's standards where everything ended poorly; Luce was going to do something about it. He's not going to leave Conrad to get hurt, not going to leave him to hurt _himself_. He'd following him home tonight, then, and every other night. Just to make sure he gets there safe, for now. Luce rested on the back of his chair, rubbing his eyes, and then, too, got up to gather his one bag for class.


	5. Fistfight

_Ah, Doma's mistakes. It made me laugh but I love her all the same. Renaming this chapter Fistfight._

**D****OUBLE UPDATE**

**Okay, I screwed up hugely.**

_**HUGELY.**_

**I uploaded the wrong chapter, specifically, THIS chapter when I meant to upload the last first.**

**So feel free to turn me into a bat as punishment.**

**And now things get very serious.**

**Remember to comment- May and I live off of those.**

**Or don't.**

**Or do.**

**I an't ya mummy.**

**Rocky Road will be uploaded in few days' time. Getting finished with exams over here.**

**We own none of the original!**

As the days passed, Conrad's condition only began to worsen, especially in school. He, who had tried so hard to be invisible before, was now attracting the attention of other students.

It began with mixing up his class schedule. He would walk into classes he wasn't meant to be in for another hour, attract stares from unfamiliar students. The climax came when he accidentally walked into the girl's restroom.

He'd apologized when he had realized his mistake, but he never really seemed to care. He never bothered to make that extra effort to defend his actions; he always spoke with that deadpan voice.

He was turning into an easy target.

Not long after the bathroom fiasco, Conrad was continuing on his usual route to the bus stop, but he was stopped by a group of teenagers his age. They began to encircle him, like vultures around a dying animal.

"Hey! Hey stupid- aw geez, look at the _little retard!_"

He stopped and stared, confused. After a moment, the prey tried to step past them; it thought the pack would let it.

But they didn't. Instead, they pushed him back in, closing in, yelling nasty things and shoving at his chest. They were trying frantically to get a rise out of him, but they couldn't; Conrad was still at a loss for what was occurring.

It was so out of routine, so unexpected, that his mind was still trying to process it all and, getting no reaction, the actions of the bullies began to escalate. Conrad soon found himself curled on the pavement, wheezing desperately for breath as the leader of the pack began to kick at his chest, the rest settling for any other contact they could find.

He was hardly aware of their screaming at him, telling him to cry for his mother, to beg, to do anything _human. _But all he could do was pull deeper and deeper into his own subconscious, away from the world around him, the painful reality.

All that was left was his dull-eyed body, free for the others to use as their personal punching bag.

…

At one point, Luce had given up with the library shit. He considered it completely pointless to stand around and do nothing, and apparently the librarian agreed, as she didn't complain when he checked out early by at least an hour.

He began to head to the bus stop, almost empty backpack slung over one shoulder, to continue his now-usual routine of following a certain freshman home, keeping him safe. It was a bit embarrassing for the senior, and he'd never admit it, but the boy was becoming a nagging bit on the edge of his conscience. It never left him alone.

To his utter dismay, he had begun protective of the boy (just a little!), but only really because he knew that the normal Conrad would never have been like this; the Conrad he knew was a scared little kid, but he was smart and artistic and not a damn- whatever he was now.

Worth gave the weakest of sighs as he continued to the bus stop. The sounds of shouting barely grabbed his attention, yet Luce was always a fan of a fistfight, and he looked up momentarily to spot several boys surrounding a single child, blocked from view behind all the kicking legs.

Two of Worth's moral codes were being broken before his very eyes. Of course that didn't settle well with him at _all_. But what only made it worse was the fact that the victim wasn't fighting back. Even from here, Luce could tell that they weren't reacting at all. Some pit settled in the teen's stomach as he heard the screams of the offenders, telling the kid to cry for his mother, and then his feet were moving almost not by his control.

He towered over the freshmen quickly, trying to catch sight of the victim. And damn it all to hell, who else could it be than the one kid he was actually hoping it wasn't.

Conrad.

_Connie._

The senior shoved the shorter boys away, landing a blow on the leader that was aiming for the victim's stomach. He couldn't even speak, couldn't think up some witty line or retort to these punks, because all he felt was_ anger_, pouring through him like a flood.

Even Luce Worth knew his limits about hurting others. He would never touch a person when they were down, wouldn't even think about it. And more than that, it was Conrad, it was always Conrad. Why couldn't he fight back?

The flood continued to pour through the broken dam, and Luce was hardly aware that he kept punching and punching and _punching_ until the boy was screaming and he finally stopped. Blood streamed from the freshman's nose and lip, Luce noted with grim satisfaction, as the younger teen pulled away.

Luce was aware that he was panting for breath; his eyes were dangerous narrow slits, almost feral. The other brats dragged their dear friend away, and suddenly he was screaming after them:

"Yeah, ya better run ya little cocksuckers! Little fuckers!"

More expletives slipped off his tongue, soothing and familiar, before he finally paused, panting wildly, fists tight. And then, as though he'd nearly forgotten why he was so angry, he turned dully to the small curled up body beneath him.

"Ey, Connie."

He placed a rough hand on the boy's tight shoulder, taking in the hazed eyes, the far away expression. "Can'ya hear me?" Quickly looking back towards the bastards, Worth wondered for a moment how much damage they inflicted. But he shoved that thought aside, looking back down toward his companion. "They ain't gonna bother ya again."

He shook the body weakly, because that's what it was: a body. Almost empty and hollow. It scared him.

The mind was so consumed and drawn away from reality that it didn't realize the blows had finally stopped. Neither the hand nor the shaking shook it back; rather, it was the familiar voice that stirred the conscience and drew it back.

"…Luce…?" his voice was hardly more than a whisper, just a breath.

Worth was…. trying to be comforting…. but _why_? What was there to comfort? To Conrad, nothing was wrong. His body was hurting, but was that a big deal?

The beaten boy struggled to sit up, giving a low moan. But the older boy didn't move his hand. "Ey-slow down!" But he didn't. His hand moved out to reach his glasses and, after moving it around carefully, he finally could make out the blurry shape of the frame and picked them up. He slipped them on, hardly noticing that one of the lenses was completely shattered. When he did realize it, all he could think of was that he'd need to ask for new ones.

He could taste penny copper on his tongue, between his teeth, as the world began to slide back into focus as much as it could. He looked directly at Worth, hardly able to pull together an expression of acknowledgement, of recognition.

The teen was still unaware of what had happened, but he had to get home. That's all he knew. He could not be late. Without another word or sound, Conrad pulled himself up to his feet slowly, staggering slightly.

Conrad was acting as though nothing was happening. He didn't seem scared or sad; he didn't even seem like he was in pain. Luce might have expected this from himself, but never from Conrad. The elder teen nearly stared as his companion rose without even speaking.

"Connie?"

He rose with him, his hand falling back down to his side, then quickly rose again as the boy staggered. "Ey, easy." He tried to steady him, a multitude of questions running through his mind.

Did Conrad even recognize him? Did he even know what had happened? That empty glazed look he was receiving, it was so… out of _character_. Was he even aware of all the bodily injuries he should have just gained? Should the boy even be standing?

Despite the cloudy havoc rolling through his mind, Luce Worth was aware of at least one thing: he had to get Conrad somewhere safe.

"C'mon, kiddie." Taking the boy by the arm carefully, he tried leading him back towards the school.

Luce had no idea that Conrad, _his_ Conrad, was almost completely gone. He couldn't know that he wasn't going to stop being this empty, emotionless _thing._ He just wanted to keep him safe, and he wasn't sure why, but everything just felt so wrong and he wanted his Conrad back.

He wanted the boy that was terrified of him, that drew horses, that showed too much emotion just because he could. He wanted the kid that punched him but was afraid of it, the little yuppie, the pansy that he embarrassed only in private because when he was in a bad mood, it was playing with this kid that made him happy. And he was the only one that had the right to mess with Conrad because he knew what the kid was going through and he knew where his boundaries were.

This was his property, his right. Conrad was breaking and Luce could never like it.

Conrad pulled away from his companion, redirecting himself to the bus stop. "I have to get home." He said it in that monotone voice again; it was nothing more than a fact. There was no room for debate. Home was the only option at this point.

This was the routine. You follow it no matter what.

Conrad began to limp away, forcing his body forward. Mother would be angry that he was late. Why was this boy talking to him again? After he told him not to?

It was curious, but it wasn't important.

Waiting for the bus was.

It didn't sink in at first that the freshman was pulling away, because it didn't make sense, it wasn't right to have him pulling away.

"Have ta-" Worth was silenced as his eyes followed the limping boy. For what felt like the longest time, he didn't know what to say, to do.

"Connie…"

For a moment, he was tempted to walk beside Conrad, but, for once, he was completely unsure of what to do. He didn't know. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, confusion. He was just at a loss.

Worth was left to stand and watch Conrad leave.


	6. Logic

_All one post from the lovely Doma Yuset. It really makes you hate the Missus. [/shrug]_

**Can't tell you all how happy it makes us to see how much attention this story is getting.**

**Honestly, we love you all.**

**Now here's the latest chapter! Enjoy!**

Conrad made it back home. He dropped his bag by the coat rack and limped his way over to the kitchen. He could hear his mom getting ready for work- she was working nights now for some reason- in the other room.

"I'm home," he said out loud for his mother to hear before taking out the pill box. It was filled with brown bottles. As soon as he came home from school, he was supposed to take the green and red pill. He had an idea what they were supposed to be for, but honestly couldn't remember for sure. Even so, he took them with a glass of water, and entered the living room. Still sipping quietly, he heard his mother opening her bedroom door. She muttered a quick hello to him, not even looking at him. She seemed in a hurry, and so pretty in her business suit and makeup...

"Conrad, dinner's in the fridge, ju- _Conrad Dillon Achenleck, __**COME HERE.**_"

Blinking in a confused matter, he stood up and faced his mother, who was glaring down at his appearance. There was blood running down his nose, a bruise on his cheek, and all over his bare arms; and his glasses were still shattered. Before he realized it, his mother had slapped him across the face, adding a fresh mark to his collection. She was furious.

"You're still fighting! After you promised, after we got you to see the doctor! You're so sick in the head, not even modern medicine can cure you, can it?"

Conrad shook his head- no, no, he wasn't fighting. He was cornered by these kids that-

The gesture was misunderstood.

"You _admit_ it!" Her voice was getting louder and higher. "Is this how it's going to be? Is it? You not only have to look like _him _you have to _**act**_ like him too! You worthless little piece of-!"

She was yelling at him. She was furious. He started feeling something in the pit of his stomach but it didn't matter because he couldn't act that emotion out. All he could do was listen and have his smallest of gestures and movements spark more and more rage.

"You're a monster! You hurt people and I know, _I know_ you're going to be a monster just like _him_." She was becoming hysterical. Conrad couldn't remember how to calm her so things only escalated. "I didn't have to have you, you know? I could have been happy! _Without you!_ You're burden! **A burden!"** She stopped screaming and picked up her purse. Conrad stood frozen. She muttered something about talking about _this _some more in the morning, but something was already being settled.

The gears in his mind were turning, taking what she said and deciding the only way for her to be happy was to not burden her anymore. He didn't feel very much anyways, so what did it matter?

Conrad was already dead.

There was no debating that- it was flawless logic. Such flawless logic. He started thinking of the hows, never gave the why a second over. He walked into the kitchen and took up a bottle of sleeping pills and pauses.

Something, _something_ was making him pause but his mind won't give it a chance to figure out _what_.

He carried the bottle into the living room and settled into the couch. Conrad stared blankly at the label. There didn't seem any reason to put it off. It was a clear choice, totally reasonable. He poured out the contents into the palm of his hand, and one by one, drank them down with the glass of water he had left on the coffee table earlier.

This only took a few seconds. When he was finished he didn't feel any immediate effects. He looked over at the TV, and decided to focus on the sitcom that was currently playing to pass the time.

It was an old show, about a Latino family. They were fighting. Interested, he kept watching. A minute passed and he started to feel drowsy. He fought it slightly, but soon was too weak to sit upright. The boy fell onto his side, feet dangling off the couch awkwardly and the empty pill bottle rolling onto the carpet. Conrad was still conscious, his eyes still glued to the TV. He found himself wishing to stay awake long enough to see the family make amends and be happy again. For some reason the thought was enough to make tears spill out, even as the eyelids started to close.


	7. Wake Up

_Stupid stupid stupid protective Luce what are you doing no stop that._

**Updates will be a bit slower after this guys. Sometimes it'd be weekly like normal, and other times it will be bi-weekly.**

**I hope you all enjoy today's chapter. This was all one single post by May Sparrow, and it's freaking **_**awesome.**_

Luce felt lost.

Not physically, of course. The boy knew the streets like the back of his hand, knew every crack and crevice. He's always known where he was, where he was going.

Except that last part wasn't exactly true at the moment. Because in the moments where a certain teenager parted from his side, to the time the bus had pulled up and that teenager had vanished in its depths, he'd been at a loss of just what to do next. He'd always followed the boy before, always—but this was so very different. Conrad had never been beaten, never been physically harmed. But more than that, he'd never shrugged off a person so easily. He'd never—

Stop. Luce needed to stop. This wasn't his problem, it never had been, and he didn't need to think about it. _He didn't need to think about it._

But, fuck, what if he could have stopped it—no, he didn't need to think that, he had no involvement with it whatsoever.

He was just going to do his normal thing. Yeah. He'd follow Conrad home, like always.

Yet Conrad's bus had already disappeared and he was forced to wait for the next one. It took a while, and as he finally boarded the public transport, the teen felt a slight surge of impatience. The thought was shoved aside as he took a window seat, eyes trailing upward to the darkening sky.

…

Upon reaching the stop sign where Conrad usually ended his route, Luce went a little farther—he usually didn't, but there was that rare occasion where Conrad had been rather dull and the older boy would make sure he actually got into the house, didn't get himself hurt even from the few blocks to his home from the bus stop.

Thinking that through, Luce Worth realized how truly protective he was of the underclassman. He wanted to keep him safe and healthy; he wanted him to be okay. He was worried over some stupid kid.

What the hell did that mean?

Lost in the strangest of thoughts, Luce got off the bus, continuing down the blocks and trailing towards Conrad's home, eyes wandering and noting the car missing from the front.

He closed the last stretch warily, feeling very slightly like a stalker (and he kind of was one now, wasn't he?). There were lights flashing in the window to the living room—TV?

Maybe he wasn't needed here if Conrad could focus on TV. But hey, he could always enjoy the program. Looking in at an angle, Worth noted the Latino family arguing and an off-stage audience laughing. Wait, was that George Lopez? What a weird-ass TV show.

Bored, Worth continued to look around, eyes trailing slowly and locking onto the couch slowly. It took him a moment to note the half-lying position. He would expect it to be uncomfortable, yet the boy looked deeply asleep. Perceiving the image as good, Luce's eyes continued around, brushing the floor with the discarded open pill bottle, moving away.

Moving back. Widening as the owner of the eyes was hit with realization, because at this angle, it was painfully clear that the bottle was empty, he could see the mouth of it.

That instinct that had shown itself at the school decided to show its face again, and suddenly, without even feeling it, the teen's sharp elbow was in the window, glass breaking and falling around it. Pushing his hand through, Worth barely felt the cuts he would usually enjoy so much as he made the hole bigger and nearly leapt through the window.

Again, it was as though his feet moved without his control; he was unaware of _how_ he had arrived at the foot of the couch, but he didn't care, he was only there for the _why_, and he was shaking the unresponsive _why_ desperately.

"C-Connie? Conrad!" He received no response, and upon searching for a pulse, he only barely found one. _"Fuck!"_

Worth never panicked, never. But if there was ever a time when he was in total mind-blowing panic, no, _fear_, it was now, as he scrambled for the empty bottle and stared at the label.

Because it was so clear what had happened. Conrad had overdosed. _Conrad_ had _overdosed_.

"Fuck fuck fuck no shit shit—"

Something snapped, clicked, whatever the term was. All Worth knew at the moment was that he needed something, and what he needed was a _rescue kit_. Conrad's mum, being the irritating worrywart she was, had to have one; even his family had one for overdosing.

He was on his feet, in other rooms of the house, searching.

Searching.

"Fuck fuck where is it _where is it_—"

In his blind panic (yes, _panic_), he almost missed it, in the laundry cabinet. His fingers wrapped tightly around the edge as he yanked it out and fled back towards the couch, the cursed couch. He threw it to the side almost furiously, falling to his knees and pulling Conrad (no, it couldn't be Conrad, _it couldn't be, it was just a body_) onto them.

Comfort was not a strong point in Luce's life; he could hardly do it with his sister, all he could ever promise was murder the bastard that had made her cry. Awkwardly cradling the body (_god could it really be Conrad_), Luce nervously buried his face in the rumbled black hair for a moment, inhaling the shampoo and dirt from earlier. With a sharp swallow, he let go, laying the boy straight on the floor and returning his attention to the kit, reading the directions oh so quickly.

**Rub hard on the breastplate or upper lip—**

Worth began to do so carefully. He didn't get a reaction, and continued to read.

—**if this does not trigger consciousness, call 911 immediately and start blowing air into the victim's lungs**

Luce searched for a phone desperately, he needed to find the phone _where was it_- there! On the table stand. His fingers stumbled on it and he wrenched it from the charger, typing in the numbers and messing up the first time.

But he did it right his second try.

_911, what is your emergency? _

He swallowed. "S'my friend— he— he overdosed on sleepin' meds— he's not wakin—"

_Did you try rubbing his breastplate and upper lip? _

Luce tried desperately to shove away the nagging voice in the back of his head that said _Are all people like this? Damn idiots _and responded sharply. "F-Fuck, yeah, I got the kit here and—"

Again the speaker interrupted him. _Okay, at this point start blowing air into his lungs. Can you do that? _

Worth cringed. Despite everything, he didn't want to perform mouth-to-mouth. But he didn't have a choice, he didn't want to regret anything. He had to. "I— I— Okay. Okay."

_Alright, do this for about two minutes, then find the Narcan. It'll be a nasal spray in the kit. Got it? _

His hand stumbled over it, grabbed it, popped part of the top off. "Y— Yeah."

_Okay, stay on the line with me, paramedics are coming, what's the address? _

He tried desperately to remember, god, why couldn't he remember?

Something was there, it decided to show itself. He could see the number in his mind's eye; but it was the _wrong house_. It was the neighboring house, oh of all the useless shit that decided to stick into his mind!

But was something, it was enough, and he barely managed to stutter it out and specify it was the _neighboring house, got it?_ (_Luce, you don't get like this, what's wrong with you?_)

He was cursing madly, swallowing and muttering a name over and over and over (Conrad's name, over and over and _over_).

"D-Damn idiot— C-Connie—" the phone slipped from his hand as they trembled and hesitated over the other boy's face before finally carefully opening his mouth. He could barely think straight as he began to perform mouth to mouth; one hand held the victim's nose closed, the other slipped under his back in a protective motion.

Luce came back up for air with a vengeance. "C'mon,_ c'mon_, Connie, breathe, you_ idiot_!" At this point in time, his fingers reached out for the Narcan and he applied it with shaky hands. The bottle almost slipped from his fingers, but he _did it_, and _god,_ _Conrad, stay with me, come on please stay_—

"S-Stay with me, kid... C-Connie... wake up... come on..." Luce wasn't aware when his thoughts became legible words, he didn't care, he couldn't hear the person on the phone trying to talk to him. All he could focus on was the boy that he'd begun to cradle again as he rocked back and forth.

"Wake up- wake _up!_"

Luce was never one to show fear. But in that instant, he was absolutely terrified.

He didn't want this kid to die.

_He wouldn't let him._


	8. Eighteen

_While the flow of this chapter is not the best, it's still a good one and it defines how Worth and his charge's mother are going to get along throughout the rest of the story._

**Greetings!**

**Okay, here's your new chapter. Enjoy~**

**Also, also, I'm stuck on Rocky Road- I realized I've never came up with a name for the ice cream shop. Anyone has any suggestions?**

It only took a few agonizing minutes, but soon enough the ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed in through the door. In a chaotic blur, they took Conrad away from the older teen and frantically set to work on stabilizing him.

A gruff man in the mist of the chaos took note of Worth's arm and yelled at another paramedic to stay with him until the second ambulance would come, which was already thirty seconds away thanks to a call on the radio. Conrad was carted away, with another man still pumping air into the boy's lungs. Just as the first ambulance left, and the man left behind finally started asking questions to the blonde starting with _who was he_ and _what exactly happened_, the door was thrown open with a clearly distressed woman.

"What is happening here! What happened to my so- _Who are __**YOU?"**_ A police officer pulled her to the side and muttered to her a very quick summary, causing a hysterical reaction. "_No, no, no, my son would _**never!** _WHERE IS HE WHERE? WHERE_?"

The man that was with Worth bit his lip as he finished wrapping up the wound. "You'll need stitches kid, let's take you to the hospital for now. We'll call your folks there- alright?"

Luce had very stubbornly refused to answer certain questions directed his way; he'd been bitter ever since they'd pulled Conrad away from him and he had to watch them cart the kid away, still trying to get him to breathe. He hurt all over, he realized, like he was worn down to the bone, and as he finally opened his mouth to direct a rude comment to the interrogator, the door was near busted open by a lady, pulled aside quickly. Luce was suddenly distracted, not even hearing the man bandaging his arm, and he pulled away suddenly in anger, rising up from his seated position and nearly storming up to the woman's face. She backstepped, still reeling in shock.

"You _bitch. You __**bitch.**_ This is all yer fault, yanno!" Absolute fury poured off the teen in waves as he shoved a finger into her face to prove his point. "He fuckin' _overdosed_, and- Fuck, guess who supplied the fuckin' meds!" His fists were tight, his eyes were narrow; this boy was a threat to society but at the moment he was a worried friend that was ready to beat the shit out of the source of a problem.

Conrad was in the hospital for some reason, because he overdosed, and this damn lady that dared call herself the boy's mother had forced him to take _eighteen_ different sorts of medications for problems he didn't have and- Luce felt something almost break in him, and his knees went weak.

Conrad could die and it would be her fault.

Luce swallowed. "_**You fucking tard.**_ _You're so damn __**stupid.**_ I don' care how well Connie spoke'a ya, you don' deserve- Ya don- Fuck!" His knuckles were going pale from the grip, and all he really wanted to do was hit this woman- but Conrad wouldn't want that, this was mum, fucked up as she is. God, it was hard to control himself. He was _so _furious.

The man protested weakly to the boy to stay still but to no avail. The officer, sensing the boy may get violent, moved himself between the two. "That's enough kid, no reason to anyone else to get hurt tonight," he said quietly, trying to defuse the situation.

But Mrs. Achenleck was looking straight into the eyes of a street hooligan, a teenager that she was sure she'd never seen before. A dangerous looking boy in _her house… _The Officer found himself restraining the _woman_ instead of the teenager, holding her back as she flailed hysterically at the boy. "You did this didn't you? _You_ did this! Who are you?" She glared at the officer. "Why aren't you arresting him? Arrest him now!"

But the accusation stopped short as the young paramedic interrupted. "This kid probably saved your son's life ma'am," he stated. "He was the one that called 911!"

She looked like she wants argue this, but by then the second ambulance had arrived. Another paramedic entered the door, trying to get the kid to come with him. The first paramedic began questioning the mother about the medications because they'd need a full history in case he had been allergic to anything.

Worth fought the paramedics half-heartedly, eyes still narrowed at the woman. But as they pulled him away from the house he suddenly screamed at her in utter fury. "_Eighteen!_ That's how many diff'rent meds he had ta take, no wonder he tried ta leave ya!" He fought the men harder now, trying to return to the woman to prove his point; but they tugged at him a bit more, and he finally relented.

"_E-Eighteen_- Fuck." As he climbed into the van, set on seeing Conrad at the hospital, he swallowed once more and shut his eyes, closing off the world around him.


	9. Be Okay

_And this is where Doma was unable to log into her account. I personally love this chapter due to the fact that I feel Lamont came out pretty well. Yeah, you heard me. Lamooooont~_

_One more after this and then weekly updates will begin. Hopefully._

**Rounding about close to the home stretch kiddies.**

**Well maybe not.**

**I dunno.**

**I rarely know what I'm talking about- but hey! Update!**

**ALSO: I suggest you all latch onto May Sparrow really quick like- she'll be posting another project we're both in on. So give her all your love… with whip cream on top…**

**(/Shot)**

The doctors wasted no time carting the boy into the IC unit, still desperately pumping air into his lungs. Conrad's condition worsened to the point of his heart actually stopping.

Luckily, he was revived in time, but the body still would not breathe on its own. It was touch and go, after they managed to pump the toxins out from the stomach, and hooked him up to large machines that regulated his bodily functions.

Machines that did Conrad's breathing _for_ him.

Machines that without, Conrad would _die_.

He was kept in a small room, monitored by a nurse, while the ambulance that was transporting Luce Worth arrived just minutes after Conrad did.

Luce wasn't such a high priority as his _life_ wasn't at risk. He was taken to one of regular rooms to get stitched up. A doctor entered the room with some items. He introduced himself and sat next to the kid to take a look at the arm. He made an off comment about the wound in some sad attempt to make a joke and lighten the mood. He asked for a number finally so they could call his folks- because hospital treatments weren't exactly free.

Luce only grimaced and didn't respond; if he did, it would be a rather rude comment of some sort, and he had enough sense to not do that in case he would be banned from seeing a certain someone in the ICU. Luce was too irritable at the moment to even humor the man. His arm wasn't hurting all that much, and he felt he could be doing so much more rather than just sitting.

They asked for his folks, and at first Luce didn't respond because Mum would throw a fit over this and sis would go nuts and just _NO_. But after a bit of thinking he reluctantly gave the doctor a number- but not the one he was looking for- rather, he gave them the number of a certain dickhead that called his sister a whore, said dick that he could easily injure if he didn't get his way.

As the doctor called, Luce waved for him to give him the phone, muttering something about not wanting Mum to worry. After much consideration and a few rude comments, the doctor gave in, and Luce took the phone. After the third ring, he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"'Ey mum!" A smirk crawled across his face.

"Wha- Fuc- Luce, NO!"

" I'm callin' from tha hosp'tal, needja ta pick me up-"

"Look, asshole, whatever it is you want I'm not gonna do it!"

"Nah, I'm fine! Just a little cut up, the usual."

"I mean it Luce! I'm not doing it again, not after what you did to my nose!"

"Okay, so you're comin', right?"

"... You fucking suck."

"Thanks mum."

"Fine, dickhead, you win. But only so I can land you in there again."

"Oh, I gotta ask ya someth'ng when ya get here."

"... What?"

"I need ta check up on a friend."

"What friends? You don't HAVE any friends!"

"Aw, gee mum, yer sweet. See ya soon."

"_LUCE_!"

The boy hung up the phone and handed it back to the doctor with a small smirk; after this, it was just waiting for his companion while he was stitched up.

The doctor seemed to buy it and nodded contently. "Alright kid. Let get you stitched up." The area was already cleaned up, so it didn't take long at all to apply the numbing cream, or to actually stitch up the wound itself.

Luce gave the doctor a slight nod, not commenting. Fifteen minutes at least passed before Lamont pulled up in front of the hospital where Luce was standing. The blonde motioned for him to roll down the window, and he did so disgustingly. "Why the fuck didja call _ME_?" Luce snorted.

"'Cuz I knew ya were gonna come. Yer that scared'a me."

Lamont huffed up. "I am NOT scared of some blonde idiot!"

Luce rolled his eyes and didn't reply, and Lamont reluctantly parked the car and climbed out. "So, why didja _REALLY_ wanna stay?"

"Told'ja, an' I ain't repeating' mahself fer s'meone w'o's too stupid ta get it the first time."

"Shut up, asshole. I'm ready to leave ya here, yanno."

"Course ya'are."

They returned inside the hospital where Luce made Lamont wait in one of the halls and began to speak with the head nurse. "Need'ta see a kid in tha ICU."

The woman looks up at him with a emotionless expression. "Name?"

"Conrad."

"…LAST name?"

"Really don' think there'sa lotta kids named Conrad."

She gave an impatient sigh, looking up the name in the database. "Are you family, sir?"

"Nah."

"Only family can see him, sir."

"Well I'm s'rry, I ain't family, 'M just the guy w'o saved 'is life!" Luce's voice rose slightly, and the nurse cringed from a couple of stares they received. She finally reluctantly gave him the room number, informing him the boy had been moved to the unresponsive patients' ward.

Luce motioned Lamont to follow him and they moved along, Luce giving the slightest of smirks. Lamont gave him an odd look. "Who's in the ward?"

"Yer mum." Luce refused to give him a straight answer, despite Lamont's pestering. They finally arrived, and again Lamont was told to stay out of the room.

"I ain't your chauffer, yanno!" was the reply, but he obeyed. Luce closed the door behind him to turn back to the body; he swallowed as he the sight in. The boy, hooked up to so many machines; this just wasn't _RIGHT_.

After a few moments, he stepped up to the body, taking the boy by the wrist. "Yer gonna be okay. Ya gotta be." He dropped the wrist and walked out, not looking back, Lamont following with all his questions.


	10. Warning

A/N: This is the most recent chapter of PFL, found on Doma Yuset's DA account and emailed to me by the lovely woman herself. I have to say, even though she's always written rather well, this chapter may be her best.

**XxxX**

The hospital is meant to be a busy place, one where figures in white are running room to room, some wheeling about the injured and sickly. However, Conrad's mother and a doctor were speaking to one another with tense tones, in the mist of all this hustle and bustle in the hall way. Mrs. Achenleck had paused the doctor from his hectic schedule, verbally trapping him with fierce aggression. "Don't give me statistics Doctor!" she snarled. "You've said it yourself, with the concussion, the lack of oxygen to the brain, the medication- even if he _does_ wake up, there's a chance he won't be the same! He could be some... some _retard _that will never be able to live a normal life!"

It was upsetting that this wasn't a rare conversation, but this was the first where the doctor ever had to deal with outside of a more private setting. The doctor desperately tried to calm her. "Yes, yes, I know- but honestly that sort of life is better than none at all!" He didn't mean to come off as biased, but honestly, it hadn't even been a month. It baffled him that she was so quick to sign a death warrant, he couldn't help but to argue on the boy's behalf.

"The hell it is!"

Because no one else seemed willing…

"Mrs. Achenleck, there is still a chance that he might.." He sighed, wondering why he was trying to persuade her- it wasn't his job, and it was technically unethical of him to try to change her beliefs. And honestly- he couldn't make any promises over the final result of her son. "...Alright, we'll give it 'til the end of the month like you asked. We will pull the plug then if your son doesn't show any signs of recovery."

**XxxX**

School was out, and Worth had returned to the hospital to visit the boy he'd found in a coma. It still felt sickening to think that Conrad was just an equivalent to a doll at this point. He slipped through the hallways by himself, approaching the door to Conrad's room quietly.

Two voices stop him short at the last turn. He recognized the more shrill one as Connikins' mother. The one he screamed his lungs out the other day. Worth listened silently to her, to her words, to her _demands,_ a twisting in his gut growing larger and larger until it snapped itself straight.

"Ah- Ah- _Fuck!"_ Worth snapped from behind the corner, stormed up to the woman that dared call herself Confag's mother. "The fuck is wrong with you? Yer gonna kill yer only kid? Fuck!" Luce's fists were tight at his sides and he nearly slammed them into the wall; he resisted. "Who're you to say who should live an die? A life's a life! You turn tha' machine off, you commit murder!"

He pointed a finger in the woman's face, and then redirected it to the doctor. "I knew 'im better 'en this bitch! He's- He's jest a scared kid! And you live wi' yerself like this? I saved 'is life, I should 'ave a say!"

The doctor stared in shock at the blonde boy, wonder just where the _fuck_he came from. He snapped a questioning glance at Mrs. Achenleck, who seemed to not only recognize him but to be displeased at his appearance.

He looked back to the teen, to calm him down, when he realized he was gone.

He had stormed off into the patient in question's room, screaming the still unmoving body.

"Dammit Connie, wake up! Ya gotta wake up, stop being a prissy baby, stop being scared, _wake up or they'll kill you!"_ He yelled desperately, _warning him._

Mrs. Achenleck stared at the boy with her mouth hung open. So many, so many things to say back. This was _her_ son; she knows what best for him- not this street rat with a brick thick accent. That _no_, he did not have a say. That, _how dare...How dare he..._. But the words lodged in her throat. The most she could muster was an expression of aghast.

The doctor knew the teen's heart was in the right place, but the way he was going about it… This was a danger, or it seemed like a danger- an emotion-fueled fit of rage could cause harm, even if the intention wasn't for anything to _be_ harmed. He signaled over at a passing security guard, pointed him in the direction of the dirty-blonde teen. The guard took Luce by the shoulders and escorted him out.

Luce suddenly felt people grabbing at him, distracting him from what he was doing. He twisted and turned in fury trying to escape, but when it came to no avail. He screamed angrily at the woman as he was pulled away, and the doctor beside her. "It's all yer fault! All'f it! He wes losin' 'is mind, 'e couldn' think straight, cuz 'is own mum hopped 'im up til 'e was sky high wit'em meds! You don't know nothin!_ Nothing!_"

Fury boiled down to a simmer as he was continuously dragged through the hall way back to the entrance, and he irately pulled himself out of the grip of the guard stiffly. "'M fine." He stormed down the hospital steps, then turned again to look up at it once more. Oh, he'd be back; he'd be calm, and he'd be back.


	11. So Damn Stupid

A/N: YOU. YOU PEOPLE. I WAS GOING TO APOLOGIZE FOR HOW LATE THIS WAS BUT THEN I TRIED HUNTING DOWN ONE SLICE OF THE RAW FOR FIVE HOURS ONLY TO FIND OUT I DON'T NEED IT. AND I GOT ANGRY. SO YOU GET NO EXCUSE. JUST A CHAPTER. AAAAAGH. TAKE IT AND BE GLAD. AND REVIEW OR I WILL KICK ALL YA'LLS ASSES.

**XxxX**

Three days passed, quietly, without change. Worth was allowed back into the hospital, on the condition he would be escorted, as to not cause any harm to the body (_the body_). The blonde accepted this agreement grudgingly, reluctantly, and he and his chaperone approached the room, together, in silence. After all, Luce was not much of a talker. But they entered the room as a pair, and the teen moved to the seat by the window, eyes locked onto the panels of the floor, only occasionally moving up to glance at the bo—no, no, it was _Conrad_, he would _not _think of it as just a body.

The boy's security exited the room for him, allowing him some privacy with his charge (because that was pretty much what Conrad was now, wasn't it? He was the one trying to take care of him). It was only then that Luce permitted himself to chatter unconventionally, half to himself, and not expecting an answer anyway.

"You have to wake up, kid. Ya gotta hurry. I dunno how much longer we kin hold out." With that said, Luce finally rose from his seat to cross the room, to stand by the bed, arms crossed.

"Hurry up kid. S'not funny." He glared at Conrad, but it was half-hearted; broken, even. "World sucks without a Confag ta make fun of. Ta pick on. Ta..." the blonde trailed off, frowning slightly.

What was this weird 'relationship' of theirs anyway? He mocked the kid, and Conrad got angry. That was it, wasn't it? Why was he protecting him? He _wasn't_, was he? He was following his own morals.

But Worth's morals did not tell him to protect just the one person, to follow them home to make sure they were safe and step in on their behalf, to make sure that anyone who touched got hurt. That was not something Worth had agreed on when he had mentally prepared himself for high school—hell, when he had prepared for _life_.

So what was this anymore?

Luce closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the machine. Nothing changed. Everything was the same.

But the body stirred for a moment, so, so slightly.

The fingers twitched against the bed sheet. The gently closed eyes, like those of a sleeping person, tightened. They cracked into small slits, snapped closed immediately, like the light above was too bright. But again, with more caution, they opened, confusion clear there, from the unfamiliarity of scenery.

Conrad felt dazed, heavy; unable to swallow. There was something in his throat, bothering his breath. He failed to notice much of his surroundings, from the plastic plant in the corner to the boy standing beside him.

Said boy had rubbed his eyes, had failed to notice the change beside him. But, blinking them open, he had watched the body dully, until it had hit him, almost stupidly, that the body was _moving_.

"Wha…"

Luce had blinked, had paid closer attention, finally noting the fingers, the eyes. His own fingers had twitched, had risen from his side to run over the brunette's moving hand gently, as though it may have stopped at any given moment. His hand had moved from the younger boy's hand to his face, rough hand rubbing against it, cupping it carefully.

"C-Connie? Kin ya hear me?" Spoken so quietly, so fearfully, but yes, fuck, the eyes were opening, _yes_. Worth's shaking hand fell back to the fingers; held them in a tight grip, shaking them.

"Conrad! C'mon, wake up, yer almos' there! Wake up, ya fuckin' priss! Come on!" And his tone was filled with excitement, with anticipation. He could feel the winds of the change, he swore he could, and finally, because _fuck_ if he hadn't waited for this with baited breath.

And the thing that had been a body was feeling, was being touched, and Conrad moaned, trying to shake off the haze to look at the person touching him so carefully, but he couldn't see more than blurs. He twitched furiously; he couldn't speak, why the hell couldn't he speak, what was in his _throat_?

There were so many questions, so many aches and pains. He blinked, trying to take it all in, trying to make out the frantic…

…vulgar talk?

Eyes widening, Conrad made a sound of protest, mind screaming.

_FUCK IT'S HIM HOW THE..._ _Calmdowncalmdowncalmdown—_

The machines monitoring his heart showed, clear as day, signs of his heart beating more quickly as the boy tried to regain his senses. There were so many questions—why was he here? What happened? What _happened? _Where _was_ he? What was _happening?_ Where was mom?

And perhaps most confusing and frightening of all—

…Was he holding his _hand?_

Indeed he was, and the blonde nearly cackled with unsuppressed joy at the _sounds _the boy was making. Everything was working, the heart was beating quickly, his eyes were open—fuck, this was _so good_!

Luce began to laugh then. "Oh, ya goddamn _idiot!_" Still shaking from laughter, he released the boy's hand to shake his shoulders instead. "Why'd y hav' ta be so stupid! Goin' and overdosin'- what the fuck, man?"

It would suffice to say Conrad was very confused by now, not to mention frightened. _Why_ was his stalker shaking his shoulders? Why was he so damned _happy?_ And he was insulting hi—why was he—

…Overdose?

It made sense, this was a hospital—_oh god stop shaking me and let me THINK_, he wanted to yell at the taller teen.

Despite the cold words, Worth was grinning. His shouts captured the attention of his chaperone who, upon checking and finding the patient awake, left in a rush to find the doctor. Meanwhile, Luce was laughing still as he suddenly pulled said patient into his own chest in utter joy and irritation.

As usual for the brunette, Luce would rather invade his personal space than allow him a moment's peace to think. A hug—he was _hugging _him now.

…_**HUGGING HIM NOW?**_

"So damn stupid," the blonde murmured quietly, probably hugging Conrad too tightly for the boy's own good but not caring, not one bit.

So maybe the kid did mean something. No doubt that was strange, but it didn't change who Luce was as a person, just what he believed him. There was an exception to every rule, every moral, and perhaps Conrad was said exception.

Conrad was convinced now—he was not awake. This was a dream.

It _had _to be. It was weirder than the other dream, the distant one that was continuously getting fainter.

Finally giving up on figuring anything out, Conrad finally relaxed, allowing his elder to _hug _him. God, this was so weird. How had it come to this? Luce sounded so happy… so _vulnerable. _It didn't seem possible; it didn't make sense.

The blonde released his charge briefly to stare him straight in the eyes, trying to regain his composure. "Ya don't ever do tha' again. Got it? Or I'll wring yer hide." Still, the tone was childish, joyful.

Seeing Luce's blurry face above his own as he was released, Conrad nodded to the odd request in confusion—fuck, he'd figure it out later, when the world decided to settle down and let him _breathe_.

It was at this point that, like an answer to his prayers, the doctor entered the room to run a few tests on him, to make sure this was real (good, because Conrad was wondering that as well) and not just reflexes. The blonde exited as he was asked and waited cheerfully—albeit impatiently—in the hall. His excitement had not yet faded, of course.

Quickly realizing the boy was breathing on his own, the doctor removed the long plastic tube from Conrad's throat, much to the brunette's discomfort. Hoarsely, he asked where his mother was, only to find she was caught in traffic. Frustration filling him, Conrad moved on to the next subject—why Luce Worth was here.

Confused, the doctor responded that he had thought Luce was a good friend—after all, he had been the one to save his life.

Irritation giving way to bafflement, Conrad snapped at the medical man, refusing to go back to sleep and rest like he was requested, demanding to see the boy waiting outside.

By this time, Luce had regained some of his composure, some of his general rudeness, and when he returned into the room, a signature smirk was plastered on his face.

"Allo princess. Got enough beauty sleep, 'ave we?"

The brunette slipped his glasses on, mumbling an irritated reply. For a moment he was quiet as he tried to recall his most recent memories, which was difficult; everything was hazy, hard to remember. The parts he _could _remember, however…

"H-Hey," he finally said, then mentally slapped himself. Hey? _Hey?_ Was that really the best he could come up with? God, he was such an idiot. "The doctor—" part of him just wanted to ask _why the fuck Luce was here_, but if the doctor's words were true, then—

"He said… I overdosed."

That couldn't have been right, he had always been so careful. Yet that night was hazier than the rest. And honestly, why else was he _here, _in the hospital?

"And that you…"

Conrad ran a hand through his coma-induced bed-hair.

"But that can't be right, though. Right?"

He laughed nervously, stopping himself. God, why else would _Luce _be here?

_**Hugging him.**_

_**Holding his hand.**_

The last clear memory the boy had of his stalker was of the "fight" in the office—it didn't fit, it just _didn't._ Conrad made a small sound as he really actually tried to remember. There—he remembered sitting on the couch, taking his regular pills.

The scene repeated.

And again.

_Over and over_.

He remembered now, it was coming back. "_F-fuck…"_ he murmured, sinking into the bed, still holding his head.

The blonde did not respond to the drawn out question, only holding his smirk, though it loosened into a more genuine expression. As the boy cursed, however, it was a smirk again, teasing. "Better watch'er mouth, Connie, else mum'll wash it wi' soap."

Approaching the bed with hands shoved in his pockets, Luce finally answered the question. "Ya did overdose. An' obviously, ya ain't dead so I did _somethin' _right. Dunno what yer shit was wi' the meds, but I was a' the right place a' the right time."

He blinked suddenly, studying the boy, expression changing ever so slightly. "Ya doin' okay? Ya know why ya did it? Took the drugs, I mean?"

Conrad was silent for a good moment. "I... I don't know. Why I did it I mean." He frowned at the ceiling, staring on it with an unreadable expression. "I fought with mum I guess but... that's _normal._"

His eyes narrowed as he sank deeper into his thoughts.

"I just... didn't think... I didn't even think about it." Realization struck him, along with horror. "I didn't even give it a _second thought._ I wasn't scared, but...!"

How, _how_ could he have not been afraid? He remembered taking it, taking it like _candy_. It had been such a _casual choice_.

His eyes flew back to Luce, suddenly filled with panic. "I-I swear!" His tone was suddenly defensive, very defensive. "I would never... I don't do things like that! That's not me, I don't..."

He sounded like a freak now, but he shouldn't care what this boy thought of him.

But, _fuck_, he _did._ He didn't want to, but he_ did_ care. To his embarrassment, he began to shake.

He really wouldn't, really, but he did! He had!

He'd never… god, why did… "I'm not some... some idiot that cuts!" Conrad suddenly remembered Luce's accusation from the office—god, it just seemed true now, didn't it? "I'm not! I'm _not!_"

Conrad was freaking out; Luce took this as both a good sign and bad—good because it was normal and Conrad-like, bad because Conrad might have worsened his condition, and the blonde wouldn't risk that. "'Ey. _'Ey._"

Reaching out, Worth gripped his arm. "'S'not your fault." Usually, Luce was quick to allow someone to chew themselves out, but now, in the moment, self-blame sounded stupid, and Conrad wasn't doing that, he was just so, _so_ scared. "Too many drugs, ya had too many."

He tried to calm him down; tried to joke around and release the tension. "Eighteen, 'member? Ya was goin' nuts."

It would be normal now, wouldn't it? No one would let Conrad get hurt like that again.

Conrad had stopped mid-rant at the hand wrapped around his wrist. "I-I…"

Not his fault? How could it… he stiffened at the word '_eighteen_'. He'd never said how many—oh, wait, he had. He told him, in the library. Luce was… trying to _help _him then.

And later, when he was getting beaten, the blonde had been there.

"L-Luce, I…"

"Yer okay. Yer thinkin' now. Yer okay." It was known that the teen was bad at comfort; feeling awkward and repetitive, Luce released his charge's arm and retreated back into his own territory. "Yer gonna be jes fine."

Conrad sighed slightly. "…Thank you."

God, that was worse than _Hey._

The blonde smirked again, satisfied with the results. "Don' mention it." A thought struck him, and he blinked. "No, really, don't. Got a reputation ta uphold."

Because he did, didn't he? Luce had almost forgotten his status at school; how people looked at him like he was something to be feared and respected. He had risked it all; hell, he had pulled other people his age into the situation, Lamont could say something at school and all Luce had worked for, all the respect he had gained would go down the drain.

"Shit," he murmured quietly, brow creasing in irritation, "I need a fag."

He needed a smoke, needed to let everything drift away, because at this point everything was chaos, a mess.

Looking back up, Luce returned his attention to his charge. "You gonna be okay?"

He hated worrying, hated being tied down, but to his utter irritation and frustration, this was _important_, dammit; it mattered and it shouldn't have.

But he still wanted to know.

Conrad felt a moment's confusion—reputation? Blinking at Luce, he realized the older boy seemed to be getting irritated.

_Burden burden burden burden—_

"Ah…" Realizing he had been asked a question, the teenager snapped out of it to reply. "...Yeah, I think I'll be fine now."

Luce nodded, looking away. "Good. Tha's good. Mek sure it stays tha' way, else I'll kick yer ass." The teasing tone was half-hearted and mixed with irritation, but it was aimed at himself, at his stupidity for being so careless with what he did for others.

"Yer mum'll be here soon. Me an' her dun see eye-ta-eye on a lotta issues. Think I'd better go." That said, the blonde straightened, preparing to leave. But before he exited, he wagged a finger in Conrad's direction. "Dun think I won' be 'round, though. Ain't gonna letcha be stupid 'gain."

Conrad nodded sheepishly, managing the smallest of smiles. Luce fighting with his mother, what a fearsome battle that would have been to see. "I'll be out of here soon, so you don't have to worry."

Would things be different now? Would he and Luce be on good terms, or would it all go back to being the same? It occurred to him that he still had the pills. Biting the inside of his cheek, the brunette decided nervously that he'd just not take them anymore. He had that much of a right—didn't he?

He didn't want to end up _here _again. He didn't want to wake up in a strange bed with a tube down his throat again.

He didn't _want _that.

His companion scoffed lightly, silently wondering the same as the brunette; wondering what this would do to them, wondering what they were now. "I ain' worried," Luce replied, halfway out the door.

That was, and always would be, a lie.


	12. Present

A/N: Aaaagh this is late. I'm sorry, I had this but I got sick and tests came up and I totally have been kicking my own butt. Sorry guys. On another note, we are nearing the end of this little story-one more chapter and then the epilogue. One more struggle and then the curtain call. I want to thank everyone whose enjoyed this so far. This has been a pleasure.

**XxxX**

Conrad gripped at the straps of his school bag with a fervency of a man whose life was at stake. As the car slowed to a stop in front of the student drop off for the school, his mother tried for the umpteenth time to break the uncomfortable silence, and failed miserably. The pair sat in silence for a long moment before Conrad reached for the door handle, refusing to look at the woman.

"…Con—"

He moved faster, slamming the door behind him before she could speak, could utter any sort of excuse or comment. Hurrying up to the school, the teen tried desperately to not think about how there was a breach, a widening gap between himself and his mother. Yes, there was less fighting, but only due to the fact that neither could seem to look the other in the face.

Because she had tried to _pull the plug on him._ And if that wasn't awkward enough, the stuff suit that dropped by rather _often_ was not helping in any way, shape, or form. School was once again the boy's safe haven, his escape.

Or, at least, it would have been if not for the burning weight within Conrad's bag.

"Not too late," the teen murmured to himself, "I can still dump it in the garbage." He wouldn't, of course, he would deliver it as quickly as possible. But it all depended on the teen he had to find first.

Said teen had been attending his classes normally, for once, while the brunette had been in the hospital. The blonde had, for once, been focusing on his classes—or trying to, finding them far too easy. But anything was better than focusing on a younger man who didn't need him anymore, who hadn't needed him. He'd been trying to remove the boy from his thoughts desperately, and only just failing.

After Luce had left the hospital, on the day of Conrad's awakening, he'd felt stiff and awkward. Stiff, for the fact he had straightened into a tense position at the thought of _worrying_. Awkward, for the fact of catching himself in the actual act of said worrying. It wasn't normal for him; he knew he should not have been like this. And he had decided that, now that the boy was recovering, he wouldn't worry anymore.

He would avoid him.

For both their sakes.

On that day, in the present time at school, Luce hadn't known of the brunette's arrival until he had actually caught sight of him. And this was only out of the corner of his eye, because he had most _definitely_ not been looking out for him. Trying to believe the historical comment "out of sight, out of mind", the blonde went on walking to his locker, preparing quickly for class. And he continued through the day this way.

Because nothing else mattered, and nothing ever had. Luce did not get close to people, or care. People always managed to get hurt when he did so. He always managed to fuck up, and it was expected of him at this point. Why not just push people away, so that no one got hurt?

Besides Worth?

_But that aside_, he kept his back turned and ignored what used to be his charge.

**XxxX**

For the first half of the day, Conrad had been continuously peeking over his shoulder, waiting for a certain voice to fill the air, for a vulgar, foulmouthed Aussie to grab him from behind and do something unpredictable. But it never happened.

Did Luce know—he _did_ know he was back to school, right?

Shuffling through the hallways uncomfortably, Conrad swallowed, not actually wanting to _look_ for his—no, not _his, the_—teenager. He made excuses, pretended he was avoiding confrontation. But then he saw the blonde at his locker; and he was positive that Luce had noticed him.

He had noticed him.

And he had upfront _ignored _him.

No, no, Conrad was over thinking this, he _had _to be. Balling up his fists nervously, the brunette walked towards his target. He was nervous, of course, but it was a different sort of nervous. He couldn't put his finger on it.

All he could think of was the fact that what he was doing was _stupid_.

His target was currently digging through his locker for something, because class would be starting soon and it was biology, he _liked _that class. But, rifling through the thing, the blonde noted his—what, not, not _his_—freshman coming towards him. Frowning slightly, his fingers finally found his textbook and he slammed the locker shut, not bothering to lock it properly. No one ever thought of going through the teen's locker, it would have been a very stupid move.

He had to get to class.

As he approached the younger boy, the shorter relaxed a tad, because, see, he just hadn't seen you the first time; that was the most logical explanation. Now they were going to have an awkward conversation—or, at the very least, Conrad was going to feel awkward. The teen almost laughed at the thought of getting _hugged_ again—but it _had _to go back to punches and curses.

When the blonde was close enough, Conrad adjusted his bag to reach the zipper. "Luce, I—"

Pushing past the teenager lightly—not forcefully, but not politely—the taller muttered a brief "s'cuse me" before walking away, vanishing into the crowd.

He just…shoved past? Turning to watch Luce's back as it disappeared, Conrad blinked, processing slowly. "…Luce?"

He was brushed off. Ignored. _Shoved past_. And while he told himself it had been exactly what he had wanted, it stung. Biting his lip, Conrad turned, swallowing. "F-Fine. Whatever."

It didn't matter. He wasn't some googly-eyed girl turned down from a date to the prom. He was just ignored by the guy that his saved his life; that was all. Pausing in front of the locker Luce had been rummaging through, his thoughts trailed back to the parcel he had failed to deliver.

Whatever. He had needed closure. He had just needed to show Luce that he had been grateful. And then he would never have to deal with the foulmouthed teen ever again. And he would be _happy _about it.

Slipping open his backpack, Conrad extracted a present from it, wrapped in the least girly wrapping paper he could find—white and blue wrapping paper.

At least he had had enough sense to not place a bow on it.

Jiggling the handle slightly, Conrad prayed for it to open, and to his surprise, it did so willingly. It figured, with the way it had slammed. Placing the present on the slanted textbooks, Conrad averted his eyes from everything else and shut the door, locking it carefully.

Task done, the teen walked away, trying to convince himself that he was feeling better.

**XxxX**

As his class ended, Luce Worth found himself not, for once, thinking about what would have been his usual distraction. See, he was not distracted by anything that had proved itself to be a pointless topic. He was returning to his old self, the one that didn't care.

Exiting the class, the blonde headed for his locker and tugged it open.

Or, at least, he _tried _to. Because it was locked.

But Luce _never_ locked the thing—what if someone had gone through it? They would be so dead; Luce would take their head and shove it up their ass, whoever they were. Grumbling in obvious anger, he unlocked it slowly—only to find a small wrapped gift on the top on his textbooks. Staring at it for a moment, the teen finally wrapped a long-fingered hand around it and tore away the ridiculous wrapping, revealing the contents.

It was a box of cigarettes.

What the hell.

As the puzzle began to fit together, Luce's expression turned from one of confusion to one of disgust. Hand curling tightly around the half wrapped box, the teen slammed his locker shut and walked quickly through the halls, clearly irritated beyond his usual levels. Upon finding a certain teenager, Luce gave no sign of greeting, only shoving him to look him in the eye.

Shoved suddenly, Conrad most certainly did _not_ squeak. Startled and somewhat frightened by that expression, an expression that was _never _used on him, the was struck speechless by the box shoved suddenly into his hands.

Releasing the box, Luce spoke very clearly, irritating radiating from his tone. "I dun wantcher stupid presen's er nuthin', getit? Yer provin' ta be more trouble th'n I b'rgained w'th, 'n I only bothered witcha cos it wuz fun. Now lemme alone."

"I don—what?" What did Luce say? To leave him alone? Like _Conrad _was the one being a bother? Like _Conrad_ was at fault? _What?_

Scowl deepening, Luce shoved Conrad once more for good measure and stepped away, turning his heel and walking away.

Maybe now the boy would leave him alone.

Still blinking from being shoved once more, Conrad was _definitely not _shaking. It wasn't as though he was _hurt _or anything! Luce was being stupid was all, stupid as usual, there was no reason to feel _thrown away._

He wanted to yell at Luce, wanted to yank him back by the _stupid ugly fur coat_, and _demand answers._ But he was suddenly self conscious of the oh so _familiar _prickling in his eyes—no, no, this was _exactly_ what he wanted.

He didn't _need_ Luce. It wasn't like they were_ friends_. It wasn't like Conrad needed anyone, he had functioned just _fine, alone_ for years now.

This was what happened… this is _exactly _what happened when you wasted your time with people! Mother was _right_!

He should just—throw away the gift. He should throw it away, and never think twice about it again.

_Stop squeezing it and throw it away._

The bell rang.

Conrad used it as an excuse to shove the box of cigarettes into his bag and stomp off angrily.


	13. Rain

A/N: YOU ARE ALL FREE TO KILL ME. [/falls over] I'm sooooo sorry. I've had the raw version of this sitting in my flash drive for forever, and I said I'd give you weekly updates and that was TWO MONTHS AGO, MAYBE MORE.

But, in payment, I give you the longest chapter I have, along with a promise. There's only the epilogue after this. I need to grab one last post from that-that'll be possible this weekend. Then I'll start the editing as soon as I can. I'm so sorry.

I'm also very sorry for Luce's behavior in the chapter. I write Luce, and I feel he's so out of character, and I try to explain him, but it's hard. You guys seem to have gotten a kick to him before, but I feel there's a limit, yanno? Maybe I'm just too big a critic, but That's my apology. I wish my Luce was more like Desdemona's Kakalose's. She's beautiful.

One more thing! On my DA, on the account MaySparrow, I have posted art for PFL. It's a poster-if you want to check it out, feel free to at http:/maysparrow(.)deviantart(.)com/#/d4hmbty

That's all, folks! It's been a wonderful run with you all, and I hope you stick around for a possible sequel-which will take forever to write, don't get hopes up.

(Oops! One last thing! To those reading Obsessions, please take note that I only just got a post this last October from my roleplay partner. She's wonderful, but her muse was dead for so long. However, once posts are up and kicking again, Obsessions will be updated! Until then, I declare the actual story on _hiatus_. Thanks again!)

**XxxX**

The school day ended in a flurry of distractions and a mixture of emotions for the blonde. He felt angry; at what, he didn't know. But, not dwelling on the matter, he exited the school with an exhausted, almost sick expression.

Luce paused at the bus stop, looking up at the sky. The clouds were a dark, ugly color, foreboding with the obvious threat of rain; a threat that was no sooner realized than the teen felt the first drops fall on his upturned face. He grimaced. With only his fur-lined coat to protect him, Luce hunched his back against the rain, shaking it away from his hair and face as it fell heavier and heavier on the world. His backpack, unprotected from the wet, began to soak through, only serving to irritate him further.

All Luce wanted was the bus to hurry its fine ass up and get him. He didn't like being stuck up here.

It made him sit in his head and think. And he didn't like thinking.

**XxxX**

Conrad had tried to forget about it. He'd tried to forget _everything_. He'd tried and tried and tried.

And yet.

He couldn't stop thinking about how Luce had done such a 180 on him. And the more he had thought about it, the angrier the teenager became. And his anger on increased when he realized what a piss poor job he was doing at forgetting _anything_.

By the time school had let out, Conrad had become a fuming mess. His focus had turned solely turned to the Aussie, and his words.

He'd only played with him because he was _bored? _Was that all he'd been to him- a _game?_

In a sudden moment of clarity, Conrad realized the _gift_ was still in his bag. He needed a safe place to throw it away; perhaps he'd "accidentally" forget it on the bus ride home.

As he made his way up the sidewalk, bundled up in possibly the most stupidly bright yellow jacket in existence (because he _did_ watch the weather forecast before leaving the house) the teen finally managed to notice a familiar blonde with a newly soggy and matted coat.

He froze.

For a moment Conrad stood there unmoving, weighing his options. A hopeful, childish idea sprung into his mind—to run the other way and just wait for the next bus. But, it was the only idea he really had.

It was the only thought, really. Then he wasn't thinking at all.

Taking the crushed box of cigarettes from his bag—and now no longer caring if any adults saw him, because he was _pissed_—Conrad hurled the object at the boy's head with startling accuracy.

As the packet hit the blonde's head, he yelped in surprise and irritation. "The _fuc__—_" Turning to find the culprit, he caught sight of the younger boy in the stupid rain coat and grit his teeth.

"You _bastard_!"

Conrad was definitely not thinking anymore.

Long fingers curled into fists. "The _fuck_ is yer problem!" One fist rose, shook itself at the boy, demanding an answer. He, too, was not thinking clearly—anger had overcome logic for the pair.

"What's _your_ problem!" Conrad rebutted, jabbing a finger at the teen, too overcome with fury to feel any intimidation he would usually feel. "Have you _met_ my mother, have you ANY idea how much I had to go through to _get_ those cigarettes! And then you just throw it back in my face...and..." Gritting his teeth furiously, the boy found himself incapable of calming himself—he couldn't stop being _angry_.

"You _forced_ yourself into my life! You couldn't leave me alone when I begged you to, and now that I'm _trying __to __thank __you, __you __asshole __of __a __fucking __JERK__FAC_- I don't _get _you! I never understand a damn thing you _do_ and maybe that's because you're screwed up in the head!" His glasses, fogging up in the progressively worse downpour, were torn away from his face, gripped in cold pale fingers.

Luce spat angrily. "_I'm_ screwed up in tha head? I ain't the one that tried ta overdose, ya bloody idiot! Sides, I thought ya'd be happy! I ain't buggin' ya anymore! Ain't that whatcha wanted, ya stupid kid!"

"Did you _get __bored_ with me? Was I just a _game!_"

Luce stared straight at him, eyes narrowed and furious. "Whaddya want me ta say, that'cha act'lly _mattered _ta me? What, did ya _enjoy _when I made yer life hell? I'm the one thet made ya angry in the first place, I'm the reason ya were on yer stupid meds anyway! Even if ya _did_ matter ta me, and I ain't saying thet ya do, ya really think I want that on my conscience? 'M trying to leave yeh alone so yeh get _better,_ fer fuck's sake!"

Okay.

_Where_ did that come from.

He was spitting words now, unfocused on the flow from his mouth.

For some reason, Luce's words had stung, far more than Conrad had expected them to. At the very least, he fell silent—until there was a slip.

Until Luce said that he was doing it so Conrad could get better.

"Wha—"

But the boy wasn't shutting up.

"Did I _force_ ya ta do somethin' yer mum would hate? No! Don't pin shit on me when I'm the one trying ta help, when I was the _only _one tryin' to help!"

He paused there, panting furiously, posture defensive. "Wot more do ya want from me?"

Luce was saying things that were contradicting his first statement.

He was… defensive.

Conrad advanced on him, closing the gap between them. "No one was _forcing_ you to help me Luce! If you really didn't care, you wouldn't have _followed __me __hom_e, **broken ****in, **_**and **__**resuscitated **__**me**_! Or _visited_ me at the hospital! I want you to _stop __lying __to __me!__"_

"I'm _not __lying!_" The blonde finally snapped, not even noticing the distance closing between them.

And he finally said something he would regret.

"I don't like seeing people too stupid ta take care of themselves git hurt, specially if I'm the one that used ta hurt them! S'part of who I am! I fuck wi' people, but I ain't so inhuman I'mma sit around and lett'em waste away!"

He shook, shivered, in the cold rain. Yet, it wasn't the cold that was permeating into his bones.

"An' I hurt people! All tha fuckin' time, tha's what I do! People avoid me fer a reason, ya stupid kid, so why should it matter ta you that I'm tryin' ta keep ya from fallin' apart! 'M sick of people gettin' close ta me, only ta git hurt!"

It finally hit him just what the fuck he was saying, what he was admitting. And Luce fell silent, stomach flipping in horror.

He had admitted things _he_ hadn't known, and it only confused him more.

People got close to him very few times in his life, and they always ended up getting hurt.

He was a disappointment to his parents.

Lamont only put up with him because Lamont knew how to hurt back.

And this kid, _this __kid_, who he'd been stupid enough to make a constant in his life, was getting hurt too.

He was so _sick_ of it.

And all the while, Conrad stared blankly at him, struck speechless. He'd expected a shitty excuse, something he could have used to fuel his rage further.

But, what he had gotten was a brutally honest answer, something Worth seemed so willing to sell his soul over, to snatch it back from the air and never say it again. But the words were there, dangling over the pair uncomfortably.

For a moment, Conrad ran his free hand through his soaked hair in an awkward manner before finally breaking the daunting silence.

"Luce… You can't just isolate yourself because you're scared..."

_Hello kettle. I'm pot._

"Fuck you," was the response he received, sharp and bitter. "I like bein' on my own, people don' expect shit of me then." Luce was trying to cover up the mistake, the words that should never have been uttered.

Too late for that.

"I ain't scared, I'm doin' the world a favor. So, run along an' take it already." He glared at the boy, hunching over, into himself.

_God, he was so cold. Where the fuck was that bus?_

Swallowing, the taller teen turned away, shoving his fists into his pockets. _Doin__g __the __world __a __favor._ And sparing more people from getting hurt. That was his favor to the fucking world.

"Why'dya even bother, anyway? Thought ya'd like it if I stopped bothering ya, thought ya'd like goin' back ta school without some'ne fuckin' with ya." He shook his head then, water flying from the mess. "I mean… thought it'd be better this way," he said, far more quietly.

Wouldn't it? For the both of them, wouldn't it be better? They worked in different circles, they weren't supposed to be like this.

What had gone wrong?

Luce had paid a favor to the world. Was he really expecting it to pay him back?

And the sad, pathetic answer that he came to was: yes. He had.

Meanwhile, the teen beside him was hesitating. "I thought so too."

Crap. Conrad wasn't angry anymore. He was upset, so very upset, but the rage wasn't there—it had faded, seemingly ages ago.

"Things change."

Like _nearly-die-in-your-living-room-alone-kinda-change_.

"L-Look... I'm not asking to..._hang__out_ anything. But I want to at least talk to you- I mean, is it too much to ask to _thank __you_ for _saving __my __LIFE_ without you having an episode?" He paused, then added, "And you're not doing anyone a favor by being a dick."

Luce snorted at that, running a hand through his sopping hair. He was soaked, he was cold, and he wanted to leave already. And this topic was sore, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"All I did, was ignore ya. Yer the one leavin' little gayass presents around like a girl. I ain'tcher boyfriend."

Fuck, he was doing it again.

He was hurting someone trying to get close to him.

And it hit him—

The world _was_ paying him back. He was just being too much of an idiot to see it.

The teen shivered, glancing back to the small boy beside him. The one who he'd given everything to keep alive: his pride, his well being, his reputation—none of it seemed to matter around this kid.

None of it.

"Ya look like an idiot, ya know that?" He snorted again, lightly, and swallowed. "You an' yer lil' gayass raincoat, so cute~"

The teasing was light, almost fond.

Conrad felt a sense of relief wash over him, at the sense things _might_beback to normal. "Better than looking like a wet dog," he retorted quietly.

Luce laughed at that. "Pansy."

Things change.

If ever there was a stupid ass saying that had to have some truth behind it, of course it would be that one.

He turned back forward, waiting for the bus that seemed so _late._ For a moment, he licked his lips; then, he finally spoke again.

"...Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll be good. No promises, though." The smirk on his face was a familiar, but it held no threat behind it. "Whatcher gonna gimme in return, though? Cos I already know wot _I _want."

He was always inappropriate, always childish. But, in some way, this was his promise, and his apology. He would lighten the load.

He would make things normal.

Conrad paused. "What _do_ you want?"

Luce blinked, turning back to the boy.

_The boy that was the key to everything, the boy that made a man think about who he was, the boy who was stupid enough to change the one person that never thought he needed it, the boy the boy the boy that would always matter in the end._

"…Pfft. Nevermin'."

And he laughed.


	14. Epilogue: Snow

A/N: This is it guys. Thanks for reading with us, there'll be an author's note after this.

**XxxX**

Months had passed, wonderful months that defied logic and made no sense to Luce, if only because of how _happy_ he had been. It didn't make sense.

But, he wasn't complaining. Not at all.

The whole, not hanging out thing?

That didn't happen. Luce, to his pleasant surprise, now had a(n adorable as fuck) boy that hung onto him, stayed with him, no matter how much of a dick he was. It was odd, but Luce enjoyed the company more than he could ever have expected.

He _enjoyed_ when his Conrad complained and worried over him. He _enjoyed_ when his Conrad made that face of displeasure, because frankly it was so adorable it should have been illegal.

(_His _Conrad. Imagine him saying that!)

And the kid never left him. Yeah, they fought, but he never left for forever, he always came back for some reason. It was a shock for Luce, to be depended on and to have someone that stayed.

But yanno, he didn't fight it.

It was December now, and cold as fuck. Luce had taken to walking Conrad to and from school since sometime in October, and he hadn't minded, but fuck, he was freezing now. His mother had taken the fur lined coat and insisted on washing the thing, and it made the teen only slightly miserable—if anything, he was more pissed due to the fact it was being washed. In response to the irritation, Luce had rebelled by wearing no protection to the cold but a short-sleeved black t-shirt.

And he was freezing, obviously. He liked it, to some point, but there was a limit for everyone.

Still. At least the boy had smokes to keep him warm. And he had one now, as he waited for Conrad outside the freshman's home.

Conrad, for his part, who had at one point been unable to stand the sight of the blonde, was willingly ready to go out with Luce, into the snow and whatever trouble the older boy was prone to getting into for the day. He couldn't explain himself, really, as to why he did it to himself; he could only logically compare the blonde to an addictive substance. He knew he should quit, but he didn't want to.

Not to mention, there was the added bonus of making mother upset about the not-so-temporary relationship. That was the icing on the cake.

The brunette finally exited the house, huddled in layers from head to toe. Perhaps he had more than he needed, but, better safe than sorry.

Upon hearing the door to the house open, Luce turned to find his companion—but, it was rather difficult to find him under all the layers. Blowing softly on his cigarette, the boy smirked. "Ya fuckin' serious, pup? Ya look like a marshmella'."

And, to be honest, the boy sort of did.

Conrad turned, looking over to Luce and frowning at what he saw. "I'm dressed like this because it's _freezing!_" Approaching the boy, he gestured at his entire underdressed self.

"The ONE day you're not wearing that gross coat of yours- What is _wrong _with you! You're going to get sick, you're going to get sick and then you're going to do something _stupid!_ Where is your coat anyways- I bet you lost it- you lost it didn't you?"

Conrad was getting upset—he always did, he always hated when Worth pulled something like this. Whether it was smoking or fighting or something just as stupid, he couldn't help but worry and fret.

Luce frowned at the overreacting teen, cigarette wilting in his mouth. "Quit yer worryin', 'm fine. Mum took it ta the wash." That said, he slipped long cold fingers into his pockets with another reoccurring smirk. "Sides, dun need a coat ta not do somethin' stupid."

And, shrugging, the blonde stepped closer to the boy and slung an arm around the overly padded shoulders, still smirking that cheerful smirk. "An' if yer _really_ worried, I kin thinka plenty a ways ya kin warm me up."

His spine curved as he leaned closer to Conrad's face, resting his head on the kid's shoulder. "Dun involve _you_ in a coat though."

And, even while Luce was being an ass and making crude jokes, he found himself wrapping his arm tighter around the freshman's shoulder. _Man_, the kid was warm, he'd giving him that, to the point where Luce wanted to nuzzle his cheek just for the heat. He had to stop himself from doing so, but the temptation was slightly aggravating.

It was strengthened for a moment when Conrad's face flared up in embarrassment. "I-I-_What?_" And, in his embarrassment, he shoved Luce off and away, trying and failing to cover just how flustered he had become.

"Oi!"

"You always do this, you _pervert!_"

"Ey! I was bein' _romantic_ fer you, ya girl!" In irritation, he shoved the kid back—and overdid it. The boy fell into the frozen grass like the puffball he was. "Eh—whoops."

And, across the street, unknowingly to the pair, a small ginger-haired tot watched them, clinging to his mother's hand as he was towed down the icy sidewalk to some unknown destination. Attempting to halt the parent, and failing to do so, ended with his heels skidding and sliding across the sidewalk; it did not deter him.

With an excited grin, the little boy pointed to the two roughhousing boys, eyes alighting with cheer at the boy sitting in the wet pile of snow, who was currently having somewhat of a hissy fit and crying "I told you _**I**__**'**__**m **__**not **__**a **__**girl!**_"

"Mama! Lookit those funny boys!"

The woman looked embarrassed for a moment, and began to pull her skidding son quicker along the sidewalk.

"Don't point Hanna, walk faster now…"


	15. Authors' Notes

_Authors' Notes_

**XxxX**

_Doma Yuset (Conrad)_

Hello! MissDomaYuset here. I have to apologize for any confusion if you originally started reading from my own account. For some reason or another, I am no longer able to log in, and the 'help' I've been receiving to log back in was rather less than helpful. May Sparrow is a wonderful friend and role-play partner and it was fantastic of her to start posting the chapters on her own account. Hopefully once finals are over, I'll just make a whole new account to lessen the complications.

May and I first met on an Invader Zim RP, that easily grew into this 2,000 page monster. In that time period I was dragged, believe it or not, kicking and screaming into the world of HINABN universe. Just as I was dragged kicking and screaming into downloading AIM. And saying bad words online.

What I was sure was just a phase took over my life. The art, the characters, the fandom- and we were a part of it all. We started role-playing, at first as just a way to pass time. But then we started building worlds, some with gender bending, and others with species swapping, and finally with age manipulation.

Thus came to existence PFL.

What had started as crack in our sandbox of role-plays has turned into quite possibly my favorite AU's ever. I can only hope you all enjoyed it as much as we did writing it. What I believe what really made this series work so well is that we poured all our raw emotions into this, used more team work then I certainly ever did in a classroom, and critiqued each other and helped each other into better writers.

We became proud enough to be able to display our hard work publicly- just imagine our delight when we saw it received positively!

We have so much more planed for these two, so we appreciate any and all support.

**XxxX**

_May Sparrow (Luce)_

Man, oh man. I may or may not tear up writing this. Okay, here goes.

When Doma and I first started this project, it was literally crack. The first two encounters? Crack. We had so much going on, and during that time it was summer. We had private roleplays, we had AIM house roleplays, we had everything but crack. And, when we started, we were all about AUs.

So this little thing started up, as a way for us to practice respective characters and such. And, it turned out so much _bigger_ than I had ever anticipated. When we put it up, writers that _I_ respected, were reading our writing and, what's more, they said we were doing a fabulous job. I can't tell you what that means to me.

I wanted to apologize so many times for Luce, because he turned from an asshole to—well okay yeah still an asshole, but with that soft spot. A lot of you were saying "It's hormones, it's age, it's _fine_". Well, to me, it's not. And, in trying to explain Luce in chapter 14, I think I found out just why Luce is so much of an ass to people, at least in canon.

It's because he doesn't care what people think of him, because they've always treated him like this. Luce comes from a family that he never wanted, and while they continue to love him, the shame they set on their son at times is overwhelming. And Luce, to block it off, blocks everything else off, people around him included. He's an ass, because he's making everything not hurt. And he fights because it helps him forget and because fists will never be as daunting as emotions. That, and he's just a plain old masochist, the asshole.

I dunno, I may be projecting, a lot has happened in the last six months.

But, Luce really thinks he's doing the world a favor by not letting people in. He doesn't burden anyone with his problems, he doesn't make anyone more miserable than they should be in the end. Everything he's ever said to hurt another person could always be shrugged off in the end.

And then came Conrad, the neurotic little ball of adorable that he chose simply because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

And, things change.

I never wanted this story to have a moral, I never thought it would happen. But it did and it's nice and I'm happy with the results. I'm happy. And, if the author's pleased with the story in the end, it doesn't matter how many people read it or how many people like it. Because… well, because it made you happy and no one and nothing should get in the way of that.

Shoot, I'm doing it again, I'm being sensitive. No May, stop that.

Well, on to my next bit. Doma Yuset is my sweetheart, and has been my friend for almost two years. She's everything I ever wanted in a sister, when my own is just as critical as—well, as Ms. Achenleck. Doma has been there in good times and bad, and she's pretty much the Luce to my Conrad.

I love my friends online with all my heart, really I do. They've been there when no one else was, and all I can really say to the online population is: thank you. Thank you for sticking through this with me, and with Doma, when the world was falling down around us and we just needed to _write._Thank you for the support and the tears and the overall enthusiasm you greeted us with. As a writer, and a person going through a really rough time in her life where a lot of things seem dark, I can't ask for anything more.

On to my last bit. This has been the best journey, and the first destination has been reached, but, just wait until we hit our next journey. Titled _Fatal__Dosage_, this story will feature more characters, twisted up in ways you will never have imagined, as well as the original duo of _PFL_, also twisted up into ways you have never imagined.

Pack your bags and get on your seatbelts. There's no going back now.

EDIT: Ack! Almost forgot! Luce has a tumblr now guys! http:/askateenaussie(.)tumblr(.)com/

Go ask him questions!


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